Learning to Foxtrot

(Chapter 13 from the book "The Chicken Who Didn't Know Where To Lay Her Eggs")

Shellie had her preferences.

For one, she preferred Christmas over Easter. At Christmas, the family was cheerful and the fireplace was warm on cold nights. Relatives came to visit and lots of bits of food were always falling on the floor and ground, just the right size for a chicken to eat.

Easter, however, was a different story.

Although Shellie had to admit that the weather was generally kinder at that time of year, she had learned that pleasant weather could have a downside. For her, Easter was downright strenuous. It was the one and only time of the year that she felt under tremendous pressure. Paula expected Shellie to lay eggs, and to lay lots of them.

Sometimes, Shellie didn't even get a look at her newest egg before the hand of Paula grabbed it away. And as soon as the egg was gone, Paula would say, "Good girl, Shellie. Now you better get back to work. I still don't have enough eggs for the Church Easter Hunt. Plus there's the kindergarten class, the orphanage, and the Ladies Auxiliary Hunt."

At times like that, Shellie wished that Paula didn't have such a good heart. Shellie didn't mind laying an egg every few days, but having to pop them out as fast as coin machine took its toll. She was always glad when Easter was over. She was usually so worn out by the whole ordeal that she would sleep almost three days straight to get back to her old self. About the only good thing she saw about Easter was that it came around once a year and no more. She was at least glad that Paula didn't expect her to lay eggs in different colors.

Shellie also had very clear preferences about a few other days of the year.
She wasn't too crazy about New Year's Eve and the Fourth of July. They were just too loud. People who were otherwise rational beings seemed to lose all their senses on those days. They suddenly started doing things that they would yell at other people for doing at any other time of the year, like having loud parties past midnight, wearing funny heats, singing loudly in public gatherings, and riding around with flags stuck on top of their vehicles.

Shellie particularly disliked firecrackers. She wouldn't have cared so much if all the noise had stopped by sundown. But it seemed that the noise never really got started until sundown. And then it went on until deep into the night and early the next morning. On those nights of the year, Shellie hardly got a wink of sleep. She could even remember times when the sun came up the next morning and those firecrackers were still going off. New Year's had been particularly bad when the millenium rolled around. The firecrackers hadn't lasted for just one night. They had lasted for three days. Shellie's nerves had been so wrecked by then that she had run off into the forest behind the house until it was all over. She usually never ventured anywhere near the forest, unless it was with Dingo to spy on Sigourney. It was too full of creatures, including Begonia, that seemed to think that fresh chicken was the perfect snack.

As far as Thanksgiving was concerned, Shellie couldn't say that she disliked it. It just made her feel uneasy. She by no means considered herself a turkey or, for that matter, subject to the perils that beset turkeys at Thanksgiving time. However, fowl was still fowl. And a chicken could never be too certain that she would never be mistaken for a young turkey.

Fortunately, there were a few holidays and other special days that Shellie found to her liking. Two of them were Memorial Day and Labor Day. She found both of them extremely peaceful. Mike, Paula and all their relatives tended to take out-of-town trips for a day or so. They even took Dingo with them. Shellie enjoyed those days. She had complete run of the house and yard. Even Sigourney, when she was around, seemed to spend most of her time sleeping since there was no one there with long legs to rub against.

But Shellie's favorite day of all was Halloween. It was like no other day of the year. It was the one day when Shellie got to eat her favorite food of all, and as much of it as any chicken could possibly hope for: fresh pumpkin seeds.

Shellie had been only three months old when she enjoyed her first Halloween. Once she had tasted her first fresh pumpkin seed, she knew she had just experienced one of the greatest pleasures in life. All seeds she had had up to that point had come straight from a sack. Although they were nothing to complain about, they were dry and hard. Shellie could certainly make a good meal out of them, but by the time she was full, her beak was tired from trying to crack them open, and her throat was dry and scratchy from swallowing them. Shellie always had to drink half a bowl of water after a lunch of those dry seeds.

But fresh pumpkin seeds were another story altogether. Fresh pumpkin seeds that had been scooped directly out of the pumpkin were soft and moist. They were also covered with wonderful slime that let them slide right down Shellie's throat. They didn't cause the least bit of scratching. And since they were so moist, Shellie didn't need to drink a half a bowl of water afterwards.

A few days before Shellie's third Halloween, Paula and Tadpole went to the field and picked 12 perfect pumpkins. They planned to make jack-o-lanterns. Eleven of the pumpkins were regular-sized, not too small and not too big. But one of the pumpkins was a giant pumpkin. It was nearly as large as four of the regular pumpkins put together. Paula placed it on the bathroom scales and exclaimed to her husband, "Biggest one we've ever raised. 58 pounds!"

The rest of that day, Paula and Tadpole made jack-o-lanterns. They cut tops off the pumpkins, scooped the seeds and flesh out, and carved crooked smiles, eyes and noses on the faces of the pumpkins.

Shellie ate fresh pumpkin seeds all afternoon. She ate so many that her craw felt like it was on the verge of bursting. She wished she could find some way to store the pumpkin seeds for the rest of the year so that they would stay fresh. Having them only one day a year was truly a shame.

Toward evening, Paula and Tadpole finished with the jack-o-lanterns. Paula went inside to get some candles to put in them. Unfortunately, she discovered that she only had three candles. She told Tadpole that they would go to town the next morning to buy some more.

In the meantime, they placed the pumpkins all around the front yard and on the front porch. Tadpole placed the three available candles in three of the smaller pumpkins at the edge of the front yard. He lit them up and stood back to admire his work.
The three jack-o-lanterns shone brightly and menacingly in the dark. Tadpole stared at them with great pleasure. The light from the jack-o-lanterns reflected in the pupils of his eyes.

The reflection gave Shellie a creepy sensation. She saw little tiny pumpkins shining from his eyes. She quickly looked away.

Around 9:00 that evening, April picked Tadpole up. He took two of the pumpkins with him. He had wanted to take the giant pumpkin, but April told him it was too big to place in the car. Paula said that they could fit it in the trunk with a little imagination. But April had insisted that it stay where it was. Shellie had noticed that April sometimes didn't show as much enthusiasm about things as Tadpole and his grandmother did.

After April and Tadpole were gone, Mike and Paula turned on the television and watched Scream. Paula didn't like such movies, but Mike always insisted on watching a scary one on Halloween night. He had done that all his life since he was a boy.
Shellie stayed in the kitchen. She didn't like movies with people popping out of the bushes in scary masks.

Mike and Paula finally went to bed around 10:30.

The house and yard soon grew quiet and still.

Shellie drifted off to asleep. She dreamed that she was walking through a field full of large pumpkins the size of elephants. After a while, they started whispering to each other in a strange clicking language she had never heard.

Suddenly, she woke up. It was near midnight. Then she understood her dream.
Dingo was awake and pacing back and forth across the kitchen linoleum. His long toenails were clicking each time they touched the floor.

Dingo looked up at Shellie as if to say, "Are you ready?" He then went out through the dog door.

Dingo did that almost every night. It was part of his routine. He would sleep a few hours, and then go outside to make his rounds in the yard. He would eventually come back in and sleep until Paula got up the next morning. He always slept much more soundly after his midnight rounds.

Shellie sometimes went with him on his rounds. Unlike most chickens, she enjoyed taking a walk in the middle of the night. The yard was full of sounds and odors that were much different from those during the day.

But Shellie always had to be extra careful. The middle of the night could also be full of dangers.

That's why she only went out when Dingo went. He wasn't the bravest dog she had ever seen but at least he was good at spotting any danger long before it became serious.
Dingo and Shellie first stayed in the back yard. Dingo checked under all the trees, the back fence and the barn. Everything seemed to be in order.

He then circled around the side of the house toward the front. Shellie followed him. She watched Dingo as he went to the edge of the front yard like he did every night. He started smelling around all the trees and bushes and began to work his way from one side of the yard to the other.

He went past the lit pumpkins along the edge of the yard. The flickering light from their eyes, noses, and mouths cast long, dark shapes across the road. Dingo's shadow made him look like a giant, slow-moving bear. The shadows made Shellie feel a little unsafe. She turned her head away and tried to keep her eyes focused on Dingo as he moved away from the jack-o-lanterns. Pretty soon, he was on the other side of the yard. It looked like the entire yard was free of any and all dangers.

Shellie knew that it would take Dingo 10 or 15 minutes to get the job done. He often found other important things to do along the way.

In the meantime, she decided to wait on the ground near the front porch. It was a clear, crisp, bright night. Shellie enjoyed the cool, fresh air and closed her eyes as she took a deep breath.

Suddenly, she heard a rustle in the camellia tree nearby. She opened her eyes and took a close look.

She didn't see anything.

She decided that it was just Dingo and closed her eyes again.

Then she heard the rustle again. This time it was closer.

She opened her eyes as wide as she could. She still didn't see anything. But then the tree rustled again.

Shellie squinted her eyes and looked as close as she could. She saw a dark figure under the camellia tree. It moved slightly, and in her direction.

Then Shellie spotted a bushy tail.

She immediately knew that the creature wasn't Dingo. She knew that it was a fox.
Shellie had never come face to face with a fox before. But she knew by instinct that a fox meant trouble, big trouble, for a little chicken.

Shellie didn't know what to do. She knew she couldn't make it to the dog door at the back of the house and into the kitchen. The fox was just too fast.
And she didn't know where Dingo was. As far as she knew, he might have already finished his rounds and gone back to bed.

Shellie stared at the fox. Suddenly, he moved closer.

Shellie then did the one thing that any chicken in her situation would have done. She screeched as loud as she could and ran up on the porch.

When the fox spotted Shellie running, he sprang out from under the camellia tree and came after her.

Shellie froze. She saw the fox coming and saw no way to escape. She couldn't run forward or to the right or left. He would get her no matter which way she headed.
Shellie jumped up onto the pumpkins. She jumped first on one of the smaller pumpkins and then on the giant one.

When she stepped on the carved-out lid of the giant pumpkin, the lid popped off and fell to the side.

Shellie lost her footing. Both legs fell into the top hole of the giant pumpkin.

Shellie screeched again. The fox was almost on her.

Shellie did the last thing she could think of. She raised her wings and tried to flap them. Perhaps she could fly away.

But instead of going upward, Shellie went downward. When she lifted her wings, her entire body fell through the top hole of the pumpkin.

Shellie hit the bottom of the pumpkin with a solid "PLOP!".

She looked upward. She saw the fox staring down in the opening at her. The light from the jack-o-lanterns along the edge of the yard hit his pupils and made them shine bright red. She could also see the bright white of his shiny teeth. Up close, they looked far bigger than she had ever expected.

Shellie screeched again.

It was the loudest she had ever screeched in her life.

It was also a screech that paid off.

She immediately heard a bark from across the yard.

It was Dingo!

He barked again, this time closer. He started yipping in his rapid, high-pitched tone.

Shellie saw the fox look up to see what it was.

She heard Dingo getting closer.

The fox backed away from the giant pumpkin.

Dingo was soon at the bottom of the porch steps. He kept up his frantic yipping.
The fox wasn't afraid of chickens, but he was afraid of rat terriers. He sprang off the porch and ran across the yard.

Dingo went after him. He was close at his heels, yipping away. That was the bravest Shellie had ever seen Dingo behave.

At that moment, the front porch light came on.

The door opened, and Mike and Paula came flying out.

"Dingo!" Paula called. "Dingo! What is it?"

They could still hear Dingo yipping, but he was too far away to see.

Then Paula said, "Where's Shellie?"

She ran back into the house and into the kitchen. Shellie wasn't there. She ran back to Mike on the front porch.

"Shellie's not in the kitchen! I'm afraid the fox got her!"

At that moment, Shellie stood up. She stretched her neck as far as she could. But she wasn't tall enough. She couldn't see out of the giant pumpkin.

She squatted back down and stuck her head out of the carved mouth. She squawked as loud as she could.

"Shellie!" Paula cried. She looked down and spotted Shellie's head sticking out of the jack-o-lantern mouth.

"Wait there, Shellie!" Paula told her. "I'll get you out."

Paula ran to the kitchen, grabbed a knife and came back. She carefully carved a larger mouth in jack-o-lantern in the shape of a large circle.

When it was big enough, Shellie squeezed her way out.

She ran inside the house as fast as she could. That was the last time she ever went on a midnight walk with Dingo.