“Where are they?” Speckles marched back and forward in front of the closed door to the chicken coop. Just beyond the door was an orchard completely still and unscratched. She could almost see the bugs taunting her from beneath the soil.
A wild dove landed right in front of the closed door causing Fudge and Ginger to fluff up their feathers and lunge at the wire. The dove flipped up into the air and landed again when it realised the chickens were still locked up. “It’s so nice out here,” he taunted. “Hey guys, check this out. I think they missed a few seeds yesterday.” Three other doves landed and this sent Speckles, Fudge and Ginger into a rage.
The chaos sent Goldie screaming to back of the cage where she dug a furrow in the soil below the roost. Red Chook did her best to calm Goldie down but only succeeded in getting knocked over. Pea Hen lifted her huge head up out of the automatic feeder and looked out over the top of the three chooks still hurling insults at the little doves. “What’s going on here then?” she asked, slowly adjusting her gaze from left to right and back again.
“The humans haven’t opened the door yet and the sun’s way up over the trees. It’s just not good enough. We’ve got a lot of scratching to get done if they want good eggs,” muttered Speckles, still pacing in front of the door.
Red Chook picked herself up and moved out of Goldie’s way. “I’m sure they’ll be here any minute,” she said.
“That’s right,” called out Speckles. “Everyone at the ready.”
At this command, Smokey dunked her pom-pom into the water feeder, snuck up behind Speckles and shook her head sending a shower of water all over her. “I’m with you boss. I think we’re all ready to find a sunny spot to dry out.” The youngest chickens, four sisters called Chocolate, Lamington, Liquorice and Butterscotch all gave a stifled cluck from the other side of the coop.
“I don’t get why they even lock the door,” said Pea Hen. “We go to sleep each night and then wake up stuck in here.”
A low, slow clucking came from inside one of the nesting boxes. Gradually a small, orange-feathered chicken emerged leaving an enormous egg in the nest. “You ask why they close the doors? Ha! Let me ask you a question. Why am I called Miracle Chook?”
A collective groan came from all the chooks except the four newly arrived sisters. Pea Hen glanced inside the nest and a look of astonishment turned to a smug grin. “Easy,” she said. “You’re eggs are bigger than four of mine put together.”
“An old chook that lays eggs! Ha! That’s no miracle. Surviving Mr Fox, now that’s a whole story on its own.” Another groan filled the air as the older chickens settled back on their roost. The word fox sent Goldie into another panic and brought the four young sisters to the front of the coop. Miracle told her story to a captive audience:
When I met Speckles, Red Chook and the Pom-Poms, Rest in Peace Misty, [Miracle gave nod to Smokey who nodded back] it was a different time and place. I was all alone in a coop much bigger than this one. But I hadn’t always been alone. It was a warm summer’s evening and the humans had let my three sisters and I out onto the lawn. That’s right girls, I had three sisters too. The four of us had arrived together and life was good. The coop was much more spacious than the farm we’d come from [Here, here! clucked Fudge and Ginger] and humans were friendly and quick to hand out seeds. They locked us in each night and let us out most afternoons. On the fateful night, it was getting late and the four of us were talking as we headed to our roosts. You know, just four chooks clucking about the usual stuff: bugs, worms, green grass, the usual. The other three were a little ahead of me when a tiny white and grey moth flew up out of the grass in front of me. Now it was late, and the moth was very small, but I just couldn’t resist and took off after it. By the time I’d given up on the little bugger I was a long way from the coop. I started to trot toward the others when I felt something. Every feather tingled and my whole body tensed. One of my sisters must have felt the same because I heard a quiet warning. A warning of what, I didn’t know. I stayed still a moment; then all hell broke loose. The warning went from a whisper to full-blown red alert danger alarms. First one, then all three sisters screaming at the top of their voices. I joined the chorus until I realised there was only two other voices, then one. I fell quiet as the coop went quiet. Next thing I know the whole yard is full of noise. All four humans came charging down the lawn yelling at the top of their voices. I didn’t think; I just acted. I went for cover. The coop was out of bounds so ran the other way. The rest of the night is a blur. I don’t know if I slept or where. The word “fox” rang in my ears till dawn. When the sun came up I didn’t know what else to do, so I just carried on. I ate some grass and scratched around a bit. Then one of the humans came and let me into the coop. I took one look at the feathers all over the coop and headed straight to the nest. Two things changed that night. My name changed to Miracle Chook and I now lay eggs for four.
A reverent silence came over the coop. The four young sisters just stared at Miracle. Speckles and Red Chook hopped down beside her and lowered their heads. When the humans finally arrived to open the coop door the chickens just went about being chickens, what else could they do?
