Why The Chicken Really Crossed The Road




I glance over my shoulder. I feel a twinge and realize I've bobbed myself right into a sore neck. When will I ever learn to just pick up the seeds and toss them in my beak like my more sophisticated neighbors? Then a patch of red fur slinking along the fence line catches my eye.

Oh no. Please not today. Soon I won't be able to move my neck! Is he....climbing the fence? I can run fast, but he outnumbers me by two whole legs.


A delivery truck rumbles by, sending a low, dirty wind across the chicken yard. Adrenaline is practically dripping off my feathers.


That's it! If I can just get to the road and cross it, maybe, just maybe, he'll be too scared to follow me! Or if I'm real lucky, he'll get taken out by another delivery truck.


I need to act now, he's eye-balling me. I run and jump, fluttering my wings enough to launch me up towards the other end of the fence. I catch the top with my beak, flip myself over the top - the other hens are staring at me with open beaks...they're so weird - and flop to the ground on the other side.


He's seen me. I don't have long. I sprint for the road, feathers flying, a strangled, panicky, gawking sound erupting from my beak in spurts.


Ok, time this right. Red car past, GO! Wait on the white line. Tan pickup truuuuuuuuck, GO! Keep running, the other lanes are clear!

Suddenly I'm there.

Just like that.

I look behind me and he's standing on the other side, while a FedEx truck, two green cars, a silver SUV, a black car, and two police cars whiz safely in between us.


Now what to do on this side of the road? Well, of course this brings me to the second reason I would ever need to cross a road. The smell of freshly pulled

espresso shots drift lazily across the sidewalk and into my nostrils. They flare, my eyes temporarily lose their glassiness, and my beak parts at the thought of fresh, hot coffee. I lift my wings in triumph.


Could this day get any better?!


That's when I hear the screech of tires, and the sudden gasp of an onlooker standing next to me. I turn around to see a bushy, red tale and a scrawny, hind foot sticking out from under the tire of a big, white delivery truck.


So this is heaven.

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