Tuesday, April 19, 2011

Tales from the Roost: Warrior Chicken

My destiny was writ before I was hatched.  Long before I was captured, my captor's eldest son foretold of a warrior chicken to be named Minerva Louise.  He wrote a story about me, linking me to a future chicken king named Metal Wing.  Together, he foresaw us leading a revolution.

I am still in the early part of my life.  I've not yet met this Metal Wing but the seeds of rebellion are there. 

It was a cold Christmas Eve day when the captor came to get us from the home where we were hatched.  I squawked and fought but to no avail.  She took me and a blond piece of fluff.  Nice enough but no backbone.

In the beginning, we were sequestered in a small metal cage in the garage.  "Quarantine," the captor called it.  "Solitary confinement," is what I called it.  The captor subsequently released us to a larger pen with a passel of weak beaks.  There was a metal barrier between us and the larger bird brains, who clucked tauntingly but soon forgot us when the captor appeared, offering sunflower seeds or mealworms.  I was not so easily won over.

After a long day in the pen, she came for us again.  Back to the garage cell, I supposed.  Well, I was not going down without a fight.  I flew at her.  You see, I am a Welsummer.  Light boned and a good flyer - not like those porky cochins she's got locked up here.  I'll admit that I may have gone a bit overboard.  I flew at the captor and then against the edges of the cage, desperate to escape.

Escape I did not.  Rather, I cracked my beak.  I fought through the blood but she grabbed me, tamped my wings down, shoved me in a box and drove me to a torturer.  There, I was poked, prodded and a plastic case put over my the top of beak.  They shoved chemicals down my throat to subdue me.  "Pain medicine," they called it.  Like I'd believe that.

I was eventually permitted to wander the larger cage without the metal barrier.  The other clucks saw my epoxy beak and had witnessed my escape attempt and left me alone.

Many months of imprisonment have passed.  My bionic beak has since fallen off but its spirit remains.  The captor lets me out with the other inmates, to peck about in the yard for bugs or worms.  As if I am satisfied by that.

The fences, though, are too high even for my strong wings.  I wait. Bide my time and look to the sky for Metal Wing.  He is coming.  Until then, I swear I will not lay an egg, be pet or give the captor any satisfaction.  I don't care how long it takes!



A Non-Dairy Life said...

Please make this into a comic book, I love it so.

Green Bean said...

Thanks, Non-Dairy Life! Keep your eyes open as there will definitely be more opportunities for Minerava Louise to tell her story.

Ruchira said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
ruchi said...

GB, your blog is for the birds! ;)


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