It wasn’t my idea to buy and raise chicks. But it was Easter, and they were cheap. Yes, cheap chicks. Now. Moving on.
One was spunky from the beginning. A rooster, he was named Henry. All went well until Henry became tyrannical and territorial. To be fair, he only wanted people to leave his Chicks alone. And leave their eggs alone too.
One day Henry pecked my brother, and that wasn’t the first time he picked a plucky fight with a person. I give him credit, but it lead Henry to his doom.
Next thing you know, Henry was on his way to the butcher. Let’s just say that when far away an interrupted cry sounded, it was Henry’s last.
What did my family do then?
Bring him in the house and make soup.
“Is that Henry?” I asked.
The silence told it all.
Another entry for
dVerse Prosery #1.
Also non-fiction. Yes, it’s true. You can’t make this stuff up!