Fearless in Feathers

(Chapter 10 from the book "The Chicken Who Didn't Know Where To Lay Her Eggs")


November got off to a gentle start. The nights dipped down no lower than the high 40s. During the day, the temperature reached the upper 70s, sometimes even the low 80s. The skies were bright blue and the air was dry.

Seeds from grass, flowers and other plants were beginning to fall to the ground. Pecans, chestnuts, and acorns were under the trees.

Shellie enjoyed sitting out in the sun for long hours in such weather. The warm rays felt good and comforting on her feathers. Since Paula had left, Shellie often felt alone. The warmth and gentle light from the mid-autumn sun made her feel less so.

Dingo often sat beside her, or the two of them took walks around the yard together. Tadpole was back in school and they didn't see much of him lately. He rarely got home before sundown. They both missed him but they also saw the bright side: At least he wasn't there to spray them with the water hose.

On the first Wednesday morning in the month, Shellie and Dingo came outside early, around 7:00. The sun had just come up, and the grass was heavy with dew. It was the time of day when all was still quiet.

They made their early morning rounds, and said goodbye to Tadpole and April when they headed off to school. After checking out the entire yard, Shellie and Dingo took their usual places on the front porch, right where the rays of sun struck it. Dingo had a light cough and his throat was a little irritated.
Around 9:30, the last of the dew dried off from the grass.

Dingo stood up and slowly stretched first his front legs and then his back legs. Paula had always called his stretching "dog yoga".

He surveyed the yard and surrounding fields for a few moments and then trotted off toward the field at the side of the house.

Shellie figured he was going to chase rabbits. There were lots of them this year. The summer had been rainy and kept all the plants in the fields, forests and elsewhere green and lush the entire time. The rabbits had had plenty to eat and had produced a bumper crop of babies. With fall now in progress, they were busy feeding on the abundance of seeds and nuts around the farm.

Shellie stayed where she was. Chasing rabbits was something she let Dingo do by himself. It was a dusty and tiring business, and Shellie preferred staying clean. She didn't want to risk having to get one of April's baths.

Shellie sat in the sun a while longer and dozed a bit. Eventually, the sun made her thirsty. She got up and wandered around to the back door where her bowl of water was sitting.
She drank a few mouthfuls and went in the house. It was extremely quiet there. Shellie could hear the grandfather clock in the living room tick even though the kitchen door was closed. Since she had come to live with April, she had begun to notice minor things like that. Before, when she still lived with Paula, she hadn't paid any attention to such things. There was always too much to do.

Shellie climbed up on her counter perch and thought about all the things that had happened over the last several months. She thought about the sudden change in Paula's behavior, the day she didn't come back home, and then the move to April's house. She wondered what the future would hold, if she would remain living with April and Tadpole the rest of her life, or if some other unexpected turn of events would change all that as well.

All her thoughts made her feel sad and uncertain. Her stomach felt like it was in knots and her chest felt tight. Every breath felt harsh and difficult. She wondered if she was coming down with the flu. She remembered that Dingo had been coughing that morning.

On such moments, Paula had always told her that she needed to think about pleasant things, that life was too short to waste it on thoughts about what had been and what might be. Shellie had always believed her but still found it difficult to simply switch off such thoughts. They had a way of switching themselves back on after a few minutes.

She then decided to try to do what Desert Doe did. Desert Doe always meditated at least once a day. She sat on a cushion on the floor in a strange position that Shellie had never seen Paula or Mike sit in. She would take long, slow, deep breaths. She told Shellie that the purpose was to clear her mind and achieve a state of inner peace. Desert Doe told Shellie that, in Sedona, she always went to a vortex to do her meditating. She said it seemed to enhance the effect.

Shellie closed her eyes and took a long, slow, deep breath. She breathed as deeply as she possibly could. She could feel her chest muscles stretching. She held her breath a moment and then slowly let it out. As she let it out, she concentrated on the sensation of the air flowing through her beak nostrils. Desert Doe had also told her to do that. Desert Doe had told her to focus on the warmth and pressure of the air flowing over the inner part of her nostrils. It was something that Shellie would have never thought of doing herself. She knew that Paula would never talk about such a thing.

After a few breaths, Shellie had to admit that she felt a little better. Her stomach felt calmer and her chest less tight. She continued with the long slow breaths and concentrated on her breathing the way Desert Doe had told her. Desert Doe had told her that if she did it long enough, all the troubling thoughts in her head would eventually disappear like the morning dew.

Shellie breathed deep again and again and again. She had to admit that the troubling thoughts did start to recede. She focused hard on making her mind completely blank. Desert Doe had told her that if she achieved that, she would have reached another level.

Shellie had always wondered what exactly that other level was. Desert Doe had never completely explained that. She had just told Shellie that she would know it when she got there.

Shellie felt much more at ease. She wondered if she was on her way to the other level. She cracked her eye lids slightly to see if she was still sitting on her kitchen perch. She was. It didn't look like the meditating had taken her anywhere yet. She closed her eyes again and kept breathing slowly and deeply.

Suddenly, she heard Dingo let out one of his high-pitched yips. His voice had a strange raspy sound to it. Shellie wondered if it was because of his cough.
Dingo yipped again. His voice sounded highly urgent.

Shellie immediately opened her eyes and held her breath. Desert Doe had never told her what to do if such an interruption happened while she was meditating.

She heard Dingo yip again. The sound came from the far end of the front driveway. Dingo started yipping rapidly and in a fast rhythm, like a machine gun that was trying to yodel.

Shellie decided that this was no time to meditate. She wasn't convinced that meditation could protect her from dangers coming up the driveway. She knew that Dingo wasn't very brave, but he was at least an exceptionally good watch dog.
She jumped down from her perch, ran through the dog door, and around to the front of the house. She flew up on the porch railing for a better view. Dingo down near the mailbox. He was running in large circles around something near the mailbox. His feet stirred up clouds of dark dust that gave the air an ominous, smoky look.

Shellie stood on her tiptoes. She spotted something. The dust that Dingo w
as stirring up made it difficult to see exactly what it was.

She looked closer.

It was a chicken!

The chicken started walking directly up the driveway. It didn't seem to have any fear of Dingo. Even though Dingo was yipping and trying to be threatening, the chicken got in the middle of the driveway and just kept coming like a feathered Alexander the Great out to conquer the next farm yard. The chicken headed straight toward the house.

Dingo kept circling around it. He yipped and yipped but never got any closer. Shellie recognized it as typical Dingo behavior, to make lots of noise but not actually do anything. Paula had often called Dingo the biggest chicken in the farm yard.

When the chicken was about halfway up the driveway, Shellie noticed that it wasn't merely a chicken. It was a rooster.

The rooster strutted closer and closer. He seemed very sure of himself. He didn't seem to realize that Dingo was a dog and he was just a bird.

When he got to the front edge of the yard, Shellie was able to get a good look at him. She found him to be a somewhat strange-looking rooster, not like the ones she was used to.

He had extremely long legs, a large and floppy crown, and a very short neck. He was also bright orange in color. With the bright sun reflecting off his feathers, he looked like a walking ball of fire. All the chickens Shellie had seen before had come in three basic colors: black, brown, and white. This was the first time that she had ever seen one so flashy and bright. It made her think of a TV show about Las Vegas that Paula had watched one night.

The rooster scratched around in the yard until he found a clump of grass that was ready to drop its seeds. He pecked at the seeds hungrily, as if he hadn't had anything to eat for a couple of days. He was so busy eating that he ignored Dingo completely and didn't spot Shellie.

Shellie didn't quite know what to do or think. She watched the rooster with a combination of fascination and horror. The lonely half of her told her to run out to greet him and befriend him. The unsure half of her told her to stay away, perhaps even to save her neck.

The rooster came nearer. He found some more grass seeds to eat.
Shellie's heart started thumping hard and fast. Her entire life had always been very secure, and she generally knew what to expect. She now found herself in a very uncertain situation.

Dingo quit circling the rooster and ran over to the porch where Shellie was sitting. He, too, seemed uncertain about this new creature. He was used to most things running away from him when he barked and chased them. This rooster didn't run. He just stared Dingo in the eye and kept eating.

Shellie finally gave in to fear. She ran around the side of the house to the back porch, through the dog door and into the kitchen. Dingo followed right behind her.
They stayed there all afternoon. Occasionally, they ventured through the dog door to see if the rooster was still there. He was. He didn't appear to have any plans of leaving. He even lay down in the middle of the back yard to soak up some sun. He found a dusty spot and took a very thorough dust bath. He acted like he had always lived there. He acted as if he owned the place.

Finally, near sundown, Shellie and Dingo heard April's car come up the driveway. Neither one ran out to greet April and Tadpole the way they normally did.
They heard the car shut off and the doors open and slam shut.

Then they heard Tadpole yell, "Look, Mama! A rooster."

Dingo and Shellie finally felt a little safer. They crept to the dog door and stuck their heads out.

They watched as April and Tadpole cautiously approached the rooster. The rooster stayed where he was. He also seemed to have no fear of humans.

"Get him some chicken pellets and some water," April told Tadpole. "I'll call around and see if any of our neighbors are missing a rooster."

Tadpole got a bowl of pellets and bowl of water. He crept out toward the middle of the yard, placed them on the ground, and cautiously walked backward to the house.

The rooster approached the bowls. He took several mouthfuls of water. Then he ate some of the pellets. He finally seemed to get his fill. He took a few more mouthfuls of water.

He stood up straight on his long legs, flapped his wings a couple of times, looked around, and started walking toward the back porch. When he got there, he flew up onto the railing and sat there. He looked at Tadpole and Tadpole looked at him.

The rooster raised his head in the air and let out a loud crow. It was sharp, raucous, splintered-sounding noise, like someone blowing on a broken harmonica.
"Mama!" Tadpole yelled. "I want to keep him! I'm going to name him 'Crowster'!"

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The next morning, Mike's SUV drove into April's yard.

Shellie and Dingo stuck their heads out of the dog door to see if Crowster was anywhere in sight. They didn't see him. They ran out into the yard to greet Mike. They were always glad to see him. Especially now with a strange and fearless rooster in the yard.

When Mike got out of the SUV, he bent down, patted Shellie on the back and Dingo on the head and said, "Shellie and Dingo, I've got a surprise for you."

He opened the passenger door of the SUV.

Paula stepped out.

Shellie would've crowed if she had been a rooster herself. She flapped her wings and ran over to Paula. Dingo jumped up and down around Paula and yipped again and again.
Paula leaned down, picked up Shellie with one arm and patted Dingo with her other hand.

"I sure am glad to see the two of you!" she cried. "Come on! Get in the SUV! It's time to go home. I've been away too long."

They all got in the SUV. Both Shellie and Dingo sat on Paula's lap. Dingo kept licking Paula's hand.

Shellie looked over at Mike. He looked happier than she had seen him in months. He had a big smile on his face as he backed the SUV out of April's yard.

Shellie looked back at Paula. She, too, was smiling. She kept petting first Shellie and then Dingo, and telling them how glad she was to be back home with them.

As they left the driveway, Shellie took one last look at April's house and yard.

Then she spotted Crowster. He was standing out at the edge of the field on the left side of the house. He didn't notice them. He was busy catching some sort of insects in the grass. His red feathers glimmered in the sun.

The Slippery Side of Perfect

(Chapter 9 from the book "The Chicken Who Didn't Know Where To Lay Her Eggs")

Mike and Paula had always gone to church on Sunday, every Sunday.

April rarely made it more than a few times a year.

Sunday was often the only day of the week she had for a little time for herself and to rest up. Between teaching, taking Tadpole to baseball or football practice, cleaning house, and occasionally going on a date, she said she had almost no free time.

Mike and Paula would've preferred that April had gone more often, but they bit their tongues. They both remembered how busy they had been when they were younger.

Besides, April was always responsible and a good mother. Moreover, she had always been there when her mother needed her, and that had meant a lot during the couple of years when things were really hard for the both of them.

After Shellie and Dingo came to live with April and Tadpole, Mike dropped by at least once a day. He still worked as hard as ever on the farm, but he seemed somewhat lost without Paula. He didn't quite know what to do with himself when he had free time. So he worked as much as possible just to keep from having any. He had also driven the SUV into the ditch twice since she had been away. The first time didn't do any damage, but the second time left the SUV in the shop for two weeks.

Every time he dropped by, he mentioned how much he missed Paula. He talked about what a calming effect she had on him. He said he could get all worked up by things on the farm, and then he could come home to Paula and she would make all his worries disappear or not seem so important.

April knew exactly what he was talking about. She remembered times she had gotten highly upset as a little girl, and her mother had simply wiped away her troubles by saying next to nothing and doing next to nothing. April knew that it was a quality she lacked in herself. She had worked hard on acquiring it but without much success. She occasionally acknowledged that she was much better at spotting things that were not right than things that were right.

Shellie also missed Paula for the same reason. She got along well enough with April and Mike, but neither of them could replace Paula. Both April and Mike hardly ever sat still. An easy chair was like an instrument of torture to them. They always had to be doing something. Yet, they seemed to only get half as much done as Paula.

A good example was Sunday supper. Paula had always been able to throw together a tasty supper on the spur of the moment when the preacher and his family showed up unexpectedly. She just went in the kitchen, hummed her favorite tunes as she cooked, and had everything ready in 45 minutes.

If anyone showed up at April's house unexpectedly, all they got was a glass of water. April always seemed to be low on food even though she went shopping every Saturday. She usually planned every meal a week in advance and in great detail, and it was difficult for her to fit in any unplanned ones along the way. If she did, she would redo her list for the rest of the week.

That's why Mike let her know a few days ahead when he would come by for supper. Otherwise, he knew that he wouldn't get anything to eat and that he would have to cook for himself. He was almost fearful of cooking for himself. He just didn't know what to do. There had previously been only one short period in his life when he hadn't had someone to cook for him, and that was the few months between when his first wife divorced him and he met April's mother. They had been the unhappiest months in his life.

One evening when Mike came by for supper and he and April and Tadpole were sitting at the table, he suggested to April, "Why don't you invite the preacher out this Sunday? He hasn't been out in quite a while."

April put her fork down and placed her hands on the table. She didn't reply for several seconds.

Finally, she said, "He's never been to my house before. It'll take me a while to get ready."

Mike took a bite of mustard greens, chewed slowly, then said, "No hurry. You could make something simple. He doesn't expect anything fancy."

"We'll see," April responded. "I'll have to see what I have and see when I have time to give the house a good cleaning."

Mike wondered what she had to clean. To him, the house was already as clean as it could get. He kept his thoughts to himself.

Several weeks later, Mike brought up the idea again. He told her he would help her buy everything she needed.

April got a rather dismayed look on her face but she finally said OK, as long as Mike would give her two weeks.

She suggested that Mike invite the preacher and his family over for 6:00 p.m. on Sunday in two weeks.

During those two weeks, April cleaned house from top to bottom. She also made a detailed plan of the Sunday supper, with seating arrangements. She drew up a list of supplies she needed and sent Mike to town to buy them.

Mike had to make three different trips. He wasn't used to buying groceries and didn't know it could be so difficult. The first time, he only bought half of what April needed. The second time, he didn't buy the right brands. Finally, on the third trip, he got everything right. He wondered why Paula had never complained. She had simply gone to the store, bought things and then come home. He had never paid any attention.

Sunday evening finally arrived. April had the entire meal ready almost an hour ahead of time. She had prepared roast beef with gravy, rice, green peas, a salad, corn-on-the-cob, French bread and cornbread, plus peach cobbler with vanilla ice cream for dessert. She made ice tea, lemonade and orange juice to drink.

She placed everything in the oven to keep it warm and went to get ready herself.
The preacher, his wife, and their two children showed up half an hour early.
April had herself only half ready. She made them wait at the door while she frantically tried to finish fixing her hair and make-up. Fortunately, Mike showed up at that moment and brought the guests into the kitchen.

April finally came out of the bathroom. Her hair and make-up were perfect. She wore a matching red blouse and skirt. She had high heels on her feet. They were also red.
The preacher's mouth dropped open and his face blushed red. He had never seen April looked so striking.

Everyone told her how fabulous she looked.

She smiled regally and insisted that Mike take them all in the living room while she finished putting things on the table.

The preacher's wife offered to help her, but April assured her she had it all under control.

Right at 6:00, April came into the living room. She announced that supper was served.
All of them moved to dining room and took their assigned seats around the table.

The preacher invited them to close their eyes and he started saying a prayer.

Tadpole wasn't used to this routine. Before the preacher was finished, he opened his eyes and reached for a piece of cornbread.

April, who was expecting something like that and had one eye slightly open, grabbed his hand and shoved it back in his lap.

The preacher finally said, "Amen!"

Everyone opened their eyes, and the preacher's wife said, "This looks lovely! I hope you didn't go to too much trouble."

April winced slightly. She replied, "Oh, no! Not at all! I just threw a few things together. Hope you enjoy it!"

Then the preacher asked, "Do you have any of Shellie's famous devilled eggs?"

April's face dropped. She hadn't even thought about making devilled eggs. Whenever Shellie laid eggs, she usually threw them away. She only cooked with eggs that she had bought from the store. She said she had no idea what might be in the ones Shellie laid.

A moment of silence followed.

The preacher's wife finally said, "Oh, honey! You don't need to eat them EVERY time! Look at all these wonderful special dishes April has fixed for us."

April smiled weakly.

Mike suddenly brought up some matter about the church and launched into conversation with the preacher.

Throughout the rest of the meal, the preacher, his wife, and Mike periodically bragged about how good the meal was.

April thanked them graciously each time.

Everyone smiled a lot during supper. However, no one laughed the way the did when Paula served supper. Sometimes, long pauses of silence would stretch out before anyone said anything.

During those pauses, Shellie could hear them all eating the cobs of corn even though she was on her counter perch in the kitchen. They sounded like a herd of miniature cows to her.

When supper was finally over, April insisted that all her guests go into the living room. She busied herself with cleaning up the table. She wouldn't let the preacher's wife help.

Finally, April joined the rest of them. They all talked about half an hour longer.
Around 8:00, the preacher and his family went home. Mike went home a few minutes later.

April came into the kitchen, looked at Shellie, and, for the first time in her life, spoke to Shellie as though she were a person.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

The House of Endless Soap and Water

(Chapter 8 from the book "The Chicken Who Didn't Know Where to Lay Her Eggs")


April only lived half a mile from her mother, but to Shellie it felt like a million miles away.

When Paula didn't come home, April had come to Mike's house, picked up Shellie and Dingo, and moved them up the road to her house.

April had only lived there three years. After she had finished college, she had gotten a teaching job in the town nearby and gotten married. She and her husband had bought a house in town. A couple of years later, April had given birth to Tadpole.

But the marriage didn't last. The reason why varied depending on whom you asked. According to April, it was because her husband spent more time on the softball field than he did at home. According to Mike, it would have taken a very special man to stay married to April. He didn't go so far as to say exactly what kind of special man. Paula had never expressed her opinion on the matter.

After getting a divorce, April and Tadpole moved into the empty cottage on the farm. Mike had renovated it for her from top to bottom.

April had a lot more rules in life than her mother. Her main two rules were cleanliness and orderliness. She was an immaculate housekeeper. She swept and mopped the floor in at least one room in her house every day. All the towels in her bathroom were always perfectly folded and matched. She kept detailed lists of all she had to do and whether she had done them. Mike had also hired her to keep his books. He realized that she was better and more thorough at it than any of the professional bookkeepers he had ever hired.

April also had strict rules for Shellie and Dingo. On their first day there, April told them that they could come into the kitchen but no further. She wouldn't let them go into the living room, dining room, or any other part of the house. Everything there was shiny clean and in perfect order. Her house had no dust, feathers, dog hairs or fleas. April told Shellie and Dingo she wanted to keep it that way.

During the first week there, Shellie and Dingo didn't even have a dog door. Every time they wanted to go in and out, they had to let April know.

Shellie found this very inconvenient and equally stressful. In the past, she had always been able to go in and out of her house anytime she wanted. Dingo also found it annoying. At first, he just sat there and waited for April to show up. But then he became impatient and began to bark and whine when he wanted to get in or out. April fussed at him, but at least she came to open the door.

Mike had offered to install a dog door for April, but she had at first resisted. She said that she didn't want to ruin a perfectly good back door.

But after a week of having to open the door for Shellie and Dingo countless times a day and listening to Dingo bark and whine, she finally changed her mind.

Once the new dog door was installed, Shellie felt much better. Even though she would have much preferred being back at home with Paula, at least she now had some of the freedom to come and go she used to have.

Still, there were a lot of things that Shellie missed. She missed sitting on Paula's lap while they watched baseball games together. She missed the stroke of Paula's hand on her back and the sweet tone of Paula voice as she talked to Shellie about the things she couldn't talk to anyone else about. She missed the late afternoon fishing trips and sitting in the boat with Paula and Dingo.

April kept the door from the kitchen to the rest of house closed at all times. Shellie had once slipped into the dining room, but April had immediately shooed her back into the kitchen with a broom. Dingo had also tried to get past the kitchen door. He hadn't even made it into the dining room.

Shellie soon noticed that life with April was also different in a number of other ways.

April didn't like to go fishing, and she never dug earthworms for Shellie. April wouldn't even touch an earthworm. Anytime she saw one, she got a very squeamish look on her face and took a few steps backward as if it were a rattlesnake. She also wouldn't touch any kind of insect or anything else that crawled. Paula had always picked such creatures up right away. If the creature was small enough and looked like something a chicken might like, she always offered it to Shellie to eat.

But Shellie found one ray of hope. At least Tadpole was there. Tadpole wasn't afraid of earthworms and other things that crawled. He loved catching and feeding them to Shellie as much as Paula did.

Tadpole also liked going fishing. He wasn't as good at it as Paula, but at least he went every now and then. And he took Shellie and Dingo with him.

Sometimes, though, a fishing trip with Tadpole didn't involve a lot of fishing. Tadpole would take a pole and earthworms with him, but if he didn't get a bite right away, his mind would start to wander. That usually led to him doing a number of other things – such as digging holes with Dingo, constructing forts out of any branches and logs he could find around the pond, building dams in the water, and, if the weather was warm enough, swimming in the pond. To him, mud and water were the essence of life. April frequently commented that he had been a pig in a former life.

Every time Tadpole was getting ready to go fishing, his mother specifically told him not to go swimming. She told him she was worried about all the snakes and gators in the water. Besides, she didn't like him coming home soaking wet and covered with mud. Tadpole tended to track the mud into the house, which irritated April more than anything in the world.

But being the farm boy he was, Tadpole usually forgot what his mother told him. He would end up going swimming and then come home wet and muddy. Even though his mother had told him hundreds of times before not to track mud into the house, he did just that.

His mother finally got so tired of cleaning up the mud that he tracked in the house that she hooked up a hose with a sprayer on the end at the back door. When Tadpole came home muddy, his mother would make him strip down to his underwear and spray himself off. Only then could he come in the house. The hose and spray got used a lot.

Tadpole didn't mind spraying himself off. He rather enjoyed it. He also loved squirting the water high in the air or turning it into a light spray and spraying a fine mist across the lawn.

He enjoyed spraying everything and everyone else as well. That included Shellie and Dingo.

Shellie and Dingo hated the water sprayer. Both of them despised getting wet. Dingo would always run off to find a place to hide every time Tadpole turned the water on.

Shellie would try to get away, but she wasn't always successful. Tadpole had a very good aim with the sprayer. He was as good with it as he had been with his pineapple pear catapult machine.

Shellie and Dingo also had another reason for trying to avoid the water sprayer. If they got wet, April would block off the dog door and not let them even into the kitchen. That meant they often had to spend long afternoons or evenings outdoors. She often wouldn't let them inside until right before she went to bed.

Shellie and Dingo soon learned to stay away from Tadpole after the three of them came home from fishing. Dingo would go hide behind the barn and Shellie would go perch in the dogwood tree in the front yard. The hose wasn't long enough for Tadpole to reach them there.

Shellie was at least happy that she wasn't Dingo. Since he had come to live with April, he got a bath almost everyday.

April wouldn't let him in the kitchen unless he was absolutely clean.

For Dingo, that was next to impossible. He spent large parts of every day digging after rabbits, rats or moles. He came home covered with dirt and dust almost every day.

April inspected him carefully several times a day. If she found any dirt on him, she would fill up the bath bucket she kept by the back porch and soap Dingo down. She would finish off the job by spraying him down with Tadpole's hose.

Shellie tried not to get involved in any of this. She figured there wasn't much she could do. She couldn't stop Dingo from digging, and she certainly couldn't stop April from filling up the bath bucket. She clearly understood that a chicken had only so much say in what dogs and humans did.

Personally, Shellie had never minded if Dingo got dirty. She had usually found it to her benefit since he always picked up a few fleas when he dug, and she could then peck them off.

Since she and Dingo had moved in with April, however, Dingo had stayed so clean that Shellie hadn't had even a single flea to eat. She also hadn't had any corn. April didn't let Shellie sit on her lap during baseball games and feed her kernels of corn every time her favorite team hit a home run.

April didn't even watch baseball. She was always too busy. She rarely even turned the TV on.

During the day, she taught school. She usually left the house at 7:30 every morning and didn't get home to 4:30 or 5:00 in the evening. Then she had to cook supper for Tadpole and herself. Rarely did she have more than a few minutes each day for Shellie and Dingo. They largely had to find their own sources of entertainment.

When April fed them, she always gave them the same thing. Shellie got chicken pellets, and Dingo got dry dog food from a large bag. Paula had always fed both Shellie and Dingo a little bit of whatever she was eating. April never did that. She certainly fed them enough, but just nothing special.

The most Shellie and Dingo could hope for was that Tadpole would drop some food on the kitchen floor. He tended to do that quite a bit. Even though April frequently told him not to eat with his mouth open, he did anyway. Things were constantly dropping from one corner of his mouth or the other.

But Shellie and Dingo had to be fast in such cases. Otherwise, April would immediately wipe the food up. She liked to keep her kitchen floor sparkling clean. She often stated that a gritty kitchen floor was worse than sand in her eyes.

Shellie found such a comparison unfathomable. She loved the feel of earth under her feet and between her claws.

The Summer the Sun Didn't Rise

(Chapter 7 from the book "The Chicken Who Didn't Know Where to Lay Her Eggs")


Paula got up at 6:30 every morning. She got up at 6:30 even when she was sick, wasn't going fishing or had stayed up late the night before to watch baseball.

She enjoyed the early morning. She was always in a good mood and full of energy. She often told Shellie, "Each morning is like a brand-new baby to me. I can't wait to get my hands on it."

She had a fixed regimen she carried out every morning. She first cooked breakfast for Mike and herself, fed Dingo and Shellie, and then fed the other animals in the farm yard. After she washed the breakfast dishes, she logged onto the Internet, checked her e-mail, and caught up on the latest news. Then she spent half an hour or so cleaning house.

Shellie loved this time of day. Paula was always cheerful and talked to her while she was busy doing all her morning activities. Shellie would either sit on the kitchen counter and watch Paula cook breakfast or follow her from room to room as Paula did the housework. It was during times like these that Shellie had learned about all the years before Paula had married Mike and come to live on the farm.

Shellie had learned about the birth of Paula's two children, her years as a registered nurse, and the couple of year's before she moved to the farm in which she had worked with the veterinarian. Those two years were when she had met Mike. She had come to the farm one day with the veterinarian to help one of the cows that was having trouble delivering a calf. She had met Mike as they stood there delivering the calf, and they had married six months later.

Shellie loved hearing about those years as Paula did her morning work. It was even better than watching one of Tadpole's movies with him.

This had been the way it was ever since Shellie's first day in the house. Shellie had never known anything else. Shellie had never known any other mother. The egg that Shellie had hatched from had been just one of seven eggs in the nest. All the other eggs had hatched on a bright day in May, but the egg Shellie was in remained there alone, unhatched. The mother hen found herself so busy with her six new chicks that she completely forgot about her last egg. Instead, she took her six new chicks out into the yard to start their first day of searching and pecking for food.

Later that day, Paula checked on the mother hen's nest and saw that one egg was still unhatched. She picked it up and held it up to the sun. She could tell that there was indeed a chick in it. She doubted that a mother hen with six hatched chicks would come back to hatch her last chick. She took the egg with her into the house. She got down the electric heating pad from the shelf in her bedroom closet and placed it on the kitchen counter. She folded the pad in half, placed the unhatched egg between the layers, and turned on the pad to low heat.

On the first day, Paula left the egg untouched. On the second day, she peeked under the electric pad a couple of times, took the egg out, and held it up to the light to see if she could see any change.

She couldn't see any. She thought that perhaps the chick had died before it had hatched.

But she decided not to rush things. She knew that not all things in life happen when you most want them to.

On the third day, Paula peeked between the layers of the electric pad again. The egg still hadn't hatch.

But on the morning of the fourth day, Paula noticed that the egg seemed to wobble a bit when she took a peek at it. When she looked a few hours later, she saw that a small hole had appeared on the surface of the egg.

She took the egg out of the pad, removed the pad from the box and placed the egg back on a soft towel in the box. The hole in the egg grew larger. The egg had begun to hatch.

But it didn't happen quickly.

The little chick in the egg seemed to peck a bit at the shell and then quit for a while, as if it needed a rest. This went on until almost nightfall. Finally, the chick seemed to make up its mind to finish the job.

Right as the sun was sinking on the horizon, the little chick finally broke open the shell completely and emerged. Then it closed its eyes and lay very still. Paula didn't know whether it had died or was just exhausted from a hard day's work.

Finally, about ten o'clock that night, the chick opened its eyes, stood up for the first time in its life, and let out a single chirp, as if to say, "Now I'm ready!"

That had been over three years ago. In the meantime, Shellie had grown into a full-sized, if small, hen. She was completely black except for a single white spot at the bottom of her neck. She had become an important part of the family. She also got up at 6:30 every morning along with Paula.

But on June 2 of Shellie's fourth year on the farm, something happened that had never happened before. Paula didn't come into the kitchen at 6:30.
Mike got up, but he was alone.

Shellie hopped down from her perch on the kitchen counter and looked at Mike. He seemed somehow confused, not sure of what to do. She had never seen him prepare breakfast before, but today he started making some coffee himself.

Shellie walked through the living room and then toward the bedroom of Mike and his wife. The door was closed.

Shellie listened carefully. She didn't hear any noise inside.

Shellie sat down in front of the door and waited. She didn't know what else to do. As she waited, she heard Mike in the kitchen. She heard the coffee kettle whistle and she heard the toast pop up in the toaster. She heard Mike sit down at the table and eat his breakfast. He hardly even smacked like he usually did. After about 10 minutes, he got up. Shellie heard him get his keys and then go out the door.

The house was silent, very silent. There was still no sound from the bedroom.
Finally, at about 8:00, Shellie heard a sound come from the bedroom. She heard Paula cough and a creak from the bed. Paula got out of bed slowly, very slowly.

After about ten minutes, Shellie heard Paula walk toward the door. The door opened slowly. Shellie looked up at Paula. She looked very tired, as if she hadn't slept for several days.

"Good morning, Shellie," Paula said in a very sad voice. Paula bent down, petted Shellie's back gently a couple of times, and then stood back up.

Paula had a vacant look on her face, as if she didn't quite know where she was.
Rather than going straight to the kitchen, Paula walked over to the sofa in the living room. She slowly lowered herself and sat down. After a few moments, she leaned forward and placed her head in her hands. She sat that way for several minutes, without moving, without saying anything, without making any sound.
After about five minutes, she sighed deeply, lifted her head and looked at Shellie. She still didn't say anything.

Then she slowly stood up and said to Shellie in a flat and glum voice, "Come on girl. Let's go get some breakfast."

Paula slowly walked toward the kitchen. Shellie followed.


#############################################

The next morning, Paula didn't get up until almost 8:30. When she finally did come out of her bedroom, she behaved like the day before. She sat down on the sofa and put her head in her hands. Even after ten minutes, she didn't move. She sat there for at least half an hour. When she finally did move, she didn't get up and go to the kitchen. Instead, she lay back on the sofa. She lay there with her eyes open for about ten minutes, just staring at the ceiling. Then she closed her eyes.

Shellie watched. She could tell that Paula wasn't sleeping because she would occasionally open her eyes or scratch her nose or turn from one side to the other.
It was nearly 10:30 before Paula finally got up.

For the next week, the same thing happened every morning. The house was very quiet and Mike very subdued.

Every day, Mike would ask his wife if she wanted him to take her to the doctor. She would always say, "No. I'll be better in a couple of days. Don't worry."

On the morning of the tenth day, Paula wasn't any better. Mike himself was also starting to look tired and drained. The lost look in his eyes only got deeper. That morning, he took his wife's hand as she lay in bed and said, "We have to take you to the doctor. We have to find out what's wrong."

Mike helped her get dressed and took her to the SUV. She didn't resist. She didn't say anything. She lay down in the back seat of the SUV and they drove off.

When they came back late that afternoon, Mike was driving the SUV and his brother was sitting on the passenger side. After Mike parked the SUV in the garage, he and his brother got out and opened both rear doors of the SUV.

Shellie saw Paula sleeping on the back seat. She seemed to be in a very deep sleep. She didn't wake up even though Dingo was barking.

Mike and her brother gently lifted Paula. They carried her into the house and placed her on the bed. She still didn't wake up.

Mike went back to the SUV and got out a bottle of pills. He took the bottle inside and placed it on the bedside stand beside his wife.


######################################


Over the next two months, Paula still didn't get any better. In fact, she got worse.

She started getting up later and later. On some days, she didn't get out of bed until early afternoon. She stopped going fishing altogether. She stopped going to church on Sundays. She often let the phone ring and ring without ever answering it.
Her daughter started coming by every day. She fed Shellie, Dingo and the other animals. She cooked for Mike and cleaned the house. She also spent hours sitting by Paula as she lay in her bed. They hardly ever talked during that time.

The daughter and Mike often sat together in the kitchen and spoke to each other in quiet tones. Shellie couldn't hear what they were saying, but she knew it was important. Mike always seemed very worried.

One morning, Mike and the daughter got Paula up, helped her get dressed and took her out to the SUV. They all three got in and drove away.

Shellie waited and waited for them to come back. They didn't come back all morning.
Late that afternoon, Shellie saw the SUV coming up the driveway. She saw Mike driving and the daughter in the passenger's seat.

When the SUV drove in the garage, Shellie ran over to see Paula.

Mike and the daughter got out.

Paula wasn't there.

What Cats Do

(Chapter 6 from the book "The Chicken Who Didn't Know Where to Lay Her Eggs")


By the time Shellie came along, the cat had already been on the farm several years. She had also gone through a series of names in that time.

She had first been known as Cuss. Later she had acquired the name Pester. Some time after that, everyone referred to her as Socks. She was now called Sigourney.

Sigourney didn't belong to either Mike or his wife. As far as they knew, she didn't belong to anyone in particular. They had checked around with neighbors and other farmers nearby to see if she belonged to them. Most of them said that they knew the cat but that she certainly didn't belong to any of them. It seemed that, if anything, the cat belonged to all of them.

It turned out that the Sigourney made her home at every house in the area at some time or another. She simply showed up one day, stayed for several months, and then disappeared as quickly as she had come. It seemed that she had made a life out of sequential residences.

The first time she had shown up on the farm, Mike had named her Cuss because she hissed at him every time he got near her. She had stayed for about two months and then disappeared. A few months later, Paula spotted her while visiting the wife of a neighboring farmer. On that farm, she had been named Pester.

She then showed up at Mike and his wife again about half a year later. They had called her Socks that time because they had forgotten what they had last called her, and, besides, she had four white feet. After a few more months, she disappeared again. They didn't see her again for almost a year.

The last time she had shown up at Mike and his wife, Tadpole had been there. After they told him how the cat showed up, stayed a while, and left, only to show up again many months later, Tadpole had decided that the cat must be an alien from outer space. He was convinced that she actually had a space ship somewhere in the area and that she stayed on the farm only between visits into outer space. He named her Sigourney after Sigourney Weaver in the Alien movies.

Sigourney had stayed almost three months the last time. Then she was gone again.
She had finally come back one day in November. She seemed right at home. She ate Dingo's food and staked out a corner of his blanket for herself.

Fortunately for Shellie, Sigourney didn't seem to have any interest in chickens, either as friends or as prey. She basically ignored Shellie altogether.

Sigourney was a good ratter. About once a week, she would bring a mouse or rat she had caught into the kitchen. She would place the dead creature on the doormat in front of the dog door.

Paula would always exclaim what a fine prize the dead creature was. She would stroke Sigourney's back and tell her what an extraordinary mice-catcher she was. Sigourney would purr proudly and rub against Paula's legs again and again.

Paula would pick up the dead mouse with a paper towel and tell Sigourney how much she appreciated the gift and that she would save it with all the other mice and rats Sigourney had brought her. Then, when Sigourney wasn't looking, Paula would throw the dead creature in the trash.

Shellie was always somewhat relieved to see Paula do that. The thought of Paula keeping an entire box of dead mice and rat made her uncomfortable.

On a warm day in January, one of those days when a low pressure cell from the tropics pushes its way north of the Gulf of Mexico, Shellie and Dingo were in the kitchen together. Mike was out in the fields for the day and Paula had gone into town to buy groceries. The house was quiet.

Shellie and Dingo were enjoying the unexpected warm weather in the middle of winter. It made them feel relaxed and at peace with the world. Shellie sat up on her counter perch. Dingo lay stretched out in front of his mirror on his blanket.

They heard the dog door make its flapping noise. Sigourney came in. She had a medium-sized mouse with her. She dropped the dead creature on the doormat like always.
Sigourney looked around for Paula. When she couldn't find her, she went over to Dingo. She lay down on the corner of blanket that had become hers.

Dingo preferred not to share his blanket with her, but Sigourney didn't pay any attention to him. She simply rubbed up against Dingo until he shifted to the side a bit, and then lay down, right against him. Dingo didn't look at her. He just sighed deeply. He had learned long ago that Sigourney did whatever she wanted despite what he did. She didn't have any fear of him.

After a while, Sigourney got up. She walked over to Dingo's food and sniffed it. She ate a few bites and then drank some of his water. Then she just stood there and looked around for a moment. Finally, she walked toward the dog door.

Shellie and Dingo thought that she was going out again.

She didn't. Instead, she lay down beside the mouse on the doormat. She stretched out and flicked her tail a few times.

She stayed there for about a five minutes. Then she got up again. She walked back over to Dingo's blanket. She again lay back down on her corner of the blanket. She flicked her tail some more. It kept landing on Dingo's hind legs and tickling his skin. He kicked his legs a couple of times in protest. Sigourney stayed where she was.

But her restlessness continued. She turned on her back, swatted at some imaginary creature in the air, and then turned first to one side and then to the other. After a few more minutes, she got up again. She went back to the doormat and lay down again next to the mouse again.

She again turned onto her back, swatted, and then turned from one side to the other.
Shellie watched her with a small amount of irritation. She wished that Sigourney would settle down and go to sleep. Her restlessness was out of place on such a pleasant day.

Finally, Sigourney stood up, yawned deeply, stretched first her front legs and then her hind legs one after the other. She stood there for a moment, looked around, and flicked her tail. Her bright yellow eyes were wide and wild-looking.

Then she seemed to make up her mind about something. She sprang through the dog door. It made a flapping noise behind her.

By now, Sigourney's restlessness had infected both Shellie and Dingo. They, too, felt the need to get up and do something.

Shellie hopped down from her counter perch. Dingo got up from his blanket.
They went out through the dog door one after the other.

They stood there together on the back porch for a moment. They looked down toward the shop. They spotted Sigourney. She was headed around the corner of the shop.
Dingo trotted off after her. Shellie followed him.

When they went around the corner of the shop, they spotted Sigourney again. She was walking down the road that ran along the edge of the field that bordered the forest and swamp.

Dingo and Shellie followed her at a distance of several hundred yards.
Sigourney kept marching along the road. She seemed to have a specific destination in mind.

She eventually got to the edge of the forest. She stopped for a moment, looked around, flicked her tail a few times, and bounded into the forest.

Dingo and Shellie lost sight of her. But they followed her right to the spot where she went into the forest. Dingo smelled the ground and picked up her scent. He followed it into the forest.

Shellie stayed right behind him. She didn't like going into the forest without Paula there, but she didn't turn back. She felt that she was safer sticking by Dingo's side rather than risking a walk back home by herself. A chicken in an open field was an easy target for hawks, foxes and a lot of other creatures.

After going about 50 yards into the forest, Dingo stopped. Shellie stopped right behind him. They both looked in front of them. They saw a small clearing about 30 feet wide. It was surrounded by pine trees and the ground was covered with the brown grass of January.

They saw Sigourney. She lay there on her back in the middle of the clearing. She once again swatted at some imaginary creature in the air.

Shellie and Dingo watched in fascination. They wondered what she was doing and what she was thinking.

They had been there about five minutes when they spotted something move in the brush on the other side of the clearing.

They suddenly felt fear for both Sigourney and themselves. They crouched down close to the ground and lay very still.

Then they saw what was moving in the brush. It was another cat.

They both relaxed and watched the cat.

The cat came into the clearing. First, it just stood at the edge. It looked at Sigourney, and Sigourney, still on her back, looked back. Neither seemed afraid of each other.

The second cat walked over to Sigourney. Sigourney stood up. The two cats stuck their tails high in the air and walked back and forth, rubbing against each other. They touched noses a few times.

Then they both lay down on the grass.

After another few minutes, Shellie and Dingo saw another movement in the brush. They watched closely.

This time two cats came into the clearing.

Sigourney and the other cat stayed where they were. They seemed to know the two new cats.

The new cats came over and all four cats walked around, rubbed against each other, and touched noses.

A few minutes later, a fifth cat joined them. They all went through the greeting routine again.

Shellie and Dingo sat there spellbound. They had never seen such a thing in their lives.

The five cats then lay down for a while. All five turned from side to side or lay on their backs. They all swatted at the imaginary creature in the air. They seemed to be enjoying the warm January sun.

After a while, the five cats formed a circle. They all sat there facing each other like a group of highly self-assured Egyptian sphinxes.

Shellie and Dingo could hear them purring. The soft, combined sound made Shellie think of the SUV engine, as if it were covered in layers of cotton padding.

Eventually, one of the cats stood up. It stretched its front and hind legs and looked around. Then it left the circle. It disappeared in the brush at the edge of the clearing, right where it had come from.

Over the next few minutes, three of the other cats also left one by one.

Only Sigourney remained. Then she too stood up. She walked over to the edge of the brush where the first cat had left. She disappeared into the brush as well.
Shellie and Dingo sat there a few more minutes, not knowing what to expect. Finally, it became evident that the cats weren't coming back.

Dingo got up and headed back home. Shellie followed him.

When they got back to the house, Sigourney wasn't there. She didn't come back for the rest of the day.

They both slept very soundly through the night. The adventure in the forest had left them extremely tired.

Sigourney also didn't come back the next day, or the next.

Shellie and Dingo looked all around the yard for her, but she was nowhere to be seen.
The days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months.

Finally, one morning in June, Sigourney showed up in the kitchen again. She didn't give them any special greeting. She simply ate half of Dingo's bowl of food and then lay down on his blanket. She flicked her tail.

Pink Tofu at Midnight

(Chapter 5 from the book "The Chicken Who Didn't Know Where to Lay Her Eggs")


Shellie had never been to Sedona, Arizona. Nor did she have any plans to go there. She figured that even though Sedona might be a wonderful town and a fine place overall, she was very happy right where she was. The farm was big enough for her.
Still, she had learned quite a bit about Sedona. She knew all about the Sinagua Indian ruins, the Red Rock Country, the art community, the vortex meditation sites, and the spiritual retreats. Sometimes, she even felt that she knew more about Sedona than about the farm.

Her education in all matters Sedona had started two years earlier. That was the first time since Shellie had hatched that Desert Doe had come to visit. Desert Doe also came the next summer. And now she was coming for the third time.
Mike and Paula had never made it to Sedona, even though Desert Doe had invited them numerous times. They always promised they would go, but the right time just never seemed to come about.

So Desert Doe came to see them. When she came, she usually stayed for a couple of weeks. Every time she came, she brought something new with her. Last time it had been wasabi-coated peas. She had snacked on them constantly. She had offered Mike and his wife some, but they had declined. Shellie had found one that had fallen on the floor. It had looked very tasty. She had scooped it up with her beak and swallowed it whole. Within two seconds, her throat was burning as if she had swallowed a sword of fire. She ran to her water bowl and drank until it was almost empty. Her craw had a burning sensation far into the next day.

Shellie had never met anyone quite like Desert Doe. Sometimes she found it hard to believe that Desert Doe was actually Mike's sister. Desert Doe was completely different from Mike, and from anyone else that Shellie knew. In almost every conversation Desert Doe had, she managed to mention at least once that she had scored 176 on an IQ test.

Mike's usual comment on that was "The only thing sharper than her mind is her tongue."

Paula was of a more tolerant opinion. She merely said that Desert Doe was one of a kind. Shellie had to agree with her.

When Desert Doe came to the farm, she spent most of her time talking about arts and spirituality. As far as Shellie could remember, she had never heard Mike or his wife talk about such things, unless you counted Sunday morning when they went to church. Even then, most of the talk was about whether they thought the preacher and his family would show up unexpectedly for supper that evening. Otherwise, the majority of their talk was about the crops, the farm animals, fishing, hunting, football or baseball.

Desert Doe never talked about those things. If Mike or Paula tried to change the conversation to one of their favorite topics, Desert Doe would find a way to swing it back to a Sedona topic.

Her favorite Sedona topic was vortex sites. That was also how she made her living. She worked as a guide who took tourists from all over the world to visit the Sedona vortex sites. That's also where she got the name Desert Doe. All guides had to have a "native" name, and one of the local Indians had picked out the name Desert Doe for her. Her real name was Charlotte, but she no longer allowed anyone to call her that. She only used that name when she had to file her income tax form or pick up an unemployment check. Desert Doe usually spent about half the year unemployed. That was one topic that Desert Doe almost never mentioned.

After Desert Doe's last visit, Shellie figured that she knew everything a chicken could possibly want to know about vortex sites. She knew the differences between upflow vortexes, inflow vortexes and combination vortexes. Shellie had learned so much about vortexes that she thought that, just perhaps, she might find some in the farm yard.

Shellie had checked out every corner of the farm yard to see if she might find a vortex. After she had heard from Desert Doe about how powerful and transforming a vortex could be, Shellie had decided it might be well worth it to find one.
But she didn't have any luck. All she had found was some earth left upturned by moles and earthworms. She had scratched around in the upturned earth to see if any vortexes would come out. They didn't. All that had come out was a couple of earthworms. Shellie had immediately caught them and swallowed them. She figured they were as good as a vortex, at least as far as a chicken was concerned.

When Desert Doe arrived the third year, she brought a guest with her. Mike called the guest "the boyfriend", but Shellie wasn't sure what his relationship with Desert Doe really was. Desert Doe never referred to him as her boyfriend. She simply said that he was a "good companion." When she spoke of him by name, she always referred to him as Soaring Eagle.

When Paula had asked Desert Doe what his real name was, Desert Doe had simply said, "That doesn't matter. 'Soaring Eagle' is his native name and his spiritual name. Please just call him 'Soaring Eagle'."

Neither Mike nor Paula had asked again. They had just looked at each other and started referring to him as Soaring Eagle. At first, both of them had a little trouble getting the name to roll off their tongues. Mike in particular had trouble getting the name down. He kept calling Soaring Eagle various other names such as Hooting Hawk, Flapping Falcon, and Snoring Beagle.

Soaring Eagle never corrected him. He just smiled.

Even though Mike and Paula had trouble remembering Soaring Eagle's name at first, they both soon realized they liked him quite a bit. It turned out that Soaring Eagle was actually the descendant of Dutch immigrants from Pennsylvania. To them, that made more sense. They didn't think Soaring Eagle's was a full-blooded Indian. His hair was blond as bleached straw.

Soaring Eagle was also quite easy to talk to. He could discuss almost any topic with great ease, and without getting into an argument about it. That was quite different from Desert Doe. She could quickly end up in an argument in almost any conversation.
Soaring Eagle was also able to talk about hunting, fishing, and the church with great ease. He knew lots about the Bible, the characters in it and what each of them had said. Paula even remarked to her husband, "He knows more about the Bible than both of us put together."

Mike appeared slightly offended by the remark, but didn't pursue the subject further.
On the third day, Mike offered to give Soaring Eagle a tour of the farm. The two women decided to stay home to prepare supper. That suited Mike fine. He never liked being cooped up in a vehicle for long periods of time with Desert Doe. They always got into arguments.

Right before Mike and Soaring Eagle left, Desert Doe said to her brother, "Now don't wreck the SUV. Remember that you've got someone else in there with you."

Mike gave his sister a harsh look. He turned to Soaring Eagle and said, "Come on. We'll leave supper up to the women."

Preparing meals was always a bit of a challenge when Desert Doe came to visit. Desert Doe was a strict vegetarian. She wouldn't eat anything with any form of animal protein in it. She was almost militant about it. Every time they went to a restaurant, she would make the waiters swear that no animal products were in the food she ordered. Sometimes she even demanded to go in the kitchen and watch over the cooks as they prepared her food. At the end of the meal, she sometimes got into heated discussions with the waiters about the cost of the meal. On some occasions, the situation had been highly uncomfortable for Mike and Paula, especially when some of the restaurants had afterwards requested that they never bring Desert Doe there again.

Soaring Eagle was also a vegetarian, but at least he would occasionally eat eggs and drink milk. He was a little easier to cook for. As far as Mike and his wife could tell, Soaring Eagle didn't like getting into arguments with people anymore than they did.

Shellie didn't feel particularly close to Desert Doe, but the fact that Desert Doe was a vegetarian was at least one thing they had in common. Shellie felt far safer when Desert Doe was coming to supper than when the preacher was coming. And Shellie liked it even more that Soaring Eagle was also a vegetarian. He didn't seem the least bit interested in eating fried or baked chicken. He stuck to beans, potatoes, cheese, milk, rice, and other grains she had never heard of before – and tofu. He ate lots of tofu.

Shellie found Desert Doe, and especially Soaring Eagle, fascinating. She studied them closely after they arrived. One of the first things she noticed was that both of them were much paler than Paula and Mike, both of whom had very rosy skin. Paula had commented that it was the lack of meat in their diet. Mike had replied that it was the lack of meat in their heads.

Desert Doe often bragged about the light complexions that she and Soaring Eagle had, particularly Soaring Eagle. She usually mentioned that he was blond and fair-skinned to begin with. Desert Doe, in contrast, had long, full-bodied dark hair and slightly darker and pinker skin. She often said that she had diluted Mediterranean blood. Mike said he had never heard of any of their ancestors being from the Mediterranean. As far as he knew, they had all come from England or Ireland.

When it came time to prepare a meal, Shellie felt perfectly safe about participating. She knew that Paula wouldn't cook her and that Desert Doe had no interest in eating her.

What Shellie found highly interesting about the meal preparations was that Paula did a lot of standing around. Preparing meals normally kept her very busy.
The reason was quite simple. Paula knew the only way she could prepare a proper meal for Desert Doe and Soaring Eagle was to let Desert Doe to do most of the cooking. The most she could do was act as an assistant. Of course, she always cooked a separate meat dish for Mike and herself.

The two women sat at the kitchen table as they peeled potatoes for the evening meal. Desert Doe sat with her back to Shellie, who was sitting in her usual place on the kitchen counter.

Shellie studied how Desert Doe peeled the potatoes. She did it differently from Paula. Paula peeled the potatoes in broad, fast swipes. Each potato she peeled was completely free of any sign of peeling.

Desert Doe was much slower and meticulous. She peeled the potatoes as lightly as she could. She insisted that the best part of the potato was the skin, and that if she was cooking for just herself and Soaring Eagle, she wouldn't have peeled the potatoes at all. She would have cooked them unpeeled and eaten them with the skin left untouched.

But Paula knew Mike would never eat potatoes with the skin on. It was just one of the many ways that he differed from his sister.

As Desert Doe peeled, Shellie studied her entire body. She was a tall and gangly woman. He hair puffed up high over her head and fell down to the middle of her back in large curls. She always wore earth-colored clothes, usually loose cotton pants, very large and loose blouses, and sandals.
Today, Desert Doe had on a flower-print blou
se, maroon-colored pants with matching, maroon-colored sandals. Shellie focused on the sandals and noticed that they looked like they were made out of the same type of straw that the chickens had in the henhouse.

Then Shellie saw something even more interesting. She saw something flash on Desert Doe's ankle.

Shellie looked closer. Desert Doe moved her foot, and there, again, was the flash.
Shellie loved flashy objects.

She jumped down from the counter perch and walked toward the chair Desert Doe was sitting in. She saw the flash again.

She walked over to Desert Doe's ankle and noticed an ankle bracelet. It was made of what looked like silver and green and yellow stones. The yellow stones reminded Shellie of the small kernels of corn that Paula kept in the bowl on the table beside the easy chair.

Shellie took one more close look and then took a quick peck at one of the stones.
"Ouch!" screamed Desert Doe. "Your chicken bit me!"

"Chickens don't bite," replied Paula. "They peck."

Desert Doe moved her foot away.

Shellie watched her ankle. The stones flashed again.

Shellie took another peck.

"Ouch!" cried Desert Doe again. "What's wrong with her?"

Desert Doe jerked her foot away and jumped up in her chair. When she stood up, her puffed-up hair almost touched the ceiling.

Shellie strutted around the chair, looking upward at Desert Doe's ankles. She spotted the stones again and sprang upward to snatch one.

"Make her quit!" screamed Desert Doe. She lifted her foot with the ankle bracelet up and held it behind her. She stood there like a six-foot-two, one-legged crane with dark-brown Dolly Parton hair. "She's attacking me!"

Paula got up and came around to where Shellie was pecking Desert Doe. She looked at Desert Doe's ankle and saw the bracelet.

She merely said, "Shellie likes shiny things. She's a chicken."

Shellie again jumped as high she could, trying to get the stones. Paula didn't do anything.

"Aren't you going to make her stop?" Desert Doe pleaded.

"She's not doing anything wrong," Paula said. "It's just your ankle bracelet. Shellie thinks those yellow stones are corn. Why don't you just take it off? She'll quit as soon as she no longer sees it."

Desert Doe seemed a little dismayed. She wasn't used to bending to anyone's will, much less that of a chicken. But she knew that Paula wouldn't send Shellie outside. If there's one thing she had learned on her previous visits, it was that Shellie was far more important than she was. Besides, she didn't want to have to explain to Soaring Eagle that she had gotten into an argument over a chicken pecking her ankle bracelet. He often told her that she simply needed to be more tolerant and less extreme.


Still standing on one leg in the chair, Desert Doe unbuckled the bracelet and took it off. She balled her hand around the ankle bracelet so that Shellie could no longer see it.

"Just show Shellie your ankle again," Paula told her. "Once she sees the bracelet is gone, she won't peck it again."

Desert Doe lowered her ankle cautiously.

Shellie eyed it hungrily. But she could no longer see the shiny stones.

Desert Doe finally put both her feet back on the floor. She placed the ankle bracelet on the table beside her bowl of potatoes. But she remained cautious. She still didn't trust Shellie.

Shellie took one last look at Desert Doe's ankle but couldn't spot the shiny stones. She took a couple of steps backward, looked Desert Doe in the eye, and turned away. She walked over to her water bowl, took a few swallows and then climbed back up to her counter perch.

Desert Doe gave her a wary look but went back to peeling potatoes.

Shellie noticed that, this time, Desert Doe was cutting off the potato skin in thicker, deeper strips, the way her brother really liked. Desert Doe now seemed to be hurrying with the potatoes as fast as she could.

The rest of day went according to plan. Mike and Soaring Eagle came back home late that afternoon. Soaring Eagle told Paula and Desert Doe all about his trip around the farm. Mike stood there beaming.

Around 6:30, the four of them sat down to supper. Soaring Eagle and Desert Doe ate potatoes plus some other vegetables and a tofu dish Desert Doe had cooked. Mike and his wife ate potatoes and vegetables plus a few slices of the ham Paula had cooked.
Afterwards, they all talked a while and watched a little television.

Around 10:30, Mike went to bed. The other three talked a few minutes more but soon retired themselves.

By that time, Shellie had already settled in for the night on her perch on the kitchen counter. She finally noticed the rest of the lights in the house go out and silence settle in.

Shellie stuck her head under her left wing and dropped off into a pleasant sleep. She dreamed of shiny green and yellow grains of corn falling from the sky. She dreamed of pecking them off the surface of a large glimmering silver platter.
Suddenly, the floor in the living room creaked slightly. The noise startled Shellie awake. She pulled her head out from under her wing and saw the kitchen door slowly opening.

Although it was dark, Shellie could see a figure coming through the door.
It was Desert Doe.

Shellie peeked out threw her nearly closed eyes. She pretended to be asleep but kept an eye on Desert Doe. She wasn't quite sure what to expect. She hoped Desert Doe had forgiven her for pecking her ankle earlier in the day.

She watched as Desert Doe crept into the kitchen. Desert Doe paused a moment in front of Shellie. She eyed Shellie closely. She seemed to be satisfied that Shellie was sound asleep. She took a few more steps forward.

Desert Doe turned her back to Shellie.

Shellie opened her eyes all the way to see what she was doing.

Desert Doe crept to the refrigerator. She opened the door cautiously, as if she didn't want to get caught. The refrigerator light shined in her face.

Shellie noticed that Desert Doe had a very determined look on her face.

Desert Doe poked around in the refrigerator for a moment. Shellie thought
perhaps she was looking for a vortex.

Then Desert Doe seemed to find what she was looking for. She took out a dish that was wrapped in tin foil.

She placed the dish on the table and got a knife out of the drawer next to the refrigerator.

Desert Doe turned back to the dish. She carefully and quietly lifted the tin foil.
The refrigerator light shined bright on the dish like a spotlight.

It was the supper ham!

Desert Doe cut a thick strip off the ham. She placed the strip in her mouth, closed her eyes and then sighed deeply and very contentedly. She hadn't even started chewing yet.

After a few seconds, Desert Doe opened her eyes and began chewing. At first, she chewed slowly, and then gradually a little faster.

Shellie watched as Desert Doe swallowed. She had never seen anyone swallow with such pleasure.

Desert Doe cut another strip off the ham and ate it. Then another, and another, and another. She stood there eating ham for at least a full ten minutes. Finally, she seemed sated.

She rewrapped the ham in the tin foil, placed it back in the refrigerator, cleaned the knife and placed it back in the utensils drawer exactly as she had found it. She checked the refrigerator to make sure it was closed properly. She tiptoed past Shellie, opened the kitchen door, exited and quietly closed it behind her.

The Day It Rained Pineapples Pears

(Chapter 4 from the book "The Chicken Who Didn't Know Where to Lay Her Eggs")

When Paula's grandson, Tadpole, was four, his mother, April, gave him a book of tales about the Middle Ages. Ever since, he had been fervent about anything involving the Middle Ages. He bought every book he could find on the topic. He spent hours on the computer playing Middle Ages games and visiting websites about Middle Ages.

He also had also a sizeable collection of movies about the Middle Ages. He had them arranged alphabetically and color-coded by theme on the shelf in his bedroom. When he came down to stay with Mike and Paula, he always brought several of the movies with him.

Paula let him watch them as much as he wanted. She also let him do just about anything else he desired. April often told her mother that she needed to be stricter with him. But he was her grandson. Besides, he also reminded her of her own son at that age. Tadpole even looked a little like her own son.

Tadpole's movies included The Fall of the Roman Empire, Alfred the Great, Anchoress, Braveheart, The Lion in Winter, Sister Sun/Brother Moon, The Name of the Rose, Le retour de Martin Guerre, and The Navigator. He also had five different movies about Robin Hood, and – his all time favorite – Monty Python and the Holy Grail.

He knew all the movies forward and backward. He knew when they were made, who made them, and who played all the characters. When he watched them, he would lie in his Middle Ages-motif sleeping bag on the floor in front of the TV and recite the lines along with the characters. He knew every line in every movie. He had even taught himself to speak in a British accent when he spoke the lines.

As Tadpole lay there on the floor, Dingo would lie on one side of him and Shellie would sit on the other. Every ten minutes or so, Tadpole would pet Dingo and Shellie. Sometimes he would turn to them and recite the lines directly to them or ask them what they thought about the movie.

He would turn to Dingo and ask, "And what do you think, Mister Flippity-Dippity-Do-Dog?" He often called Dingo the Mister Flippity-Dippity-Do-Dog. There was no special reason for calling Dingo that. Dingo certainly couldn't turn flips. But Tadpole liked saying it.

Or he would turn to Shellie and say, "And what's your opinion, Miss Shellie-Minelli-With-Corn-In-Her-Belly?"

Shellie understood the "Corn-In-Her-Belly" part. But she didn't know where the "Minelli" part came from. She certainly couldn't sing like Liza Minelli.

When Tadpole called Dingo and Shellie their special names, they never said anything. But they enjoyed the whole movie-watching experience anyway. Tadpole liked Shellie and Dingo, and they liked him. The only other person who talked to them in such comforting tones was Paula.

One afternoon in late August, April had a dentist appointment and had to do some shopping. She dropped Tadpole off to stay with Paula.

As usual, Tadpole brought a Middle Ages movie with him. This time it was Monty Python and the Holy Grail.

He soon took his place in his Middle Ages sleeping bag in front of the TV with Shellie on one side and Dingo on the other.

As the movie ran, he recited the lines along with the actors. Occasionally, he turned to Shellie and Dingo to recite the lines to them, pet them or call them their pet names.

About halfway through the movie, his eyes lit up even more than usual. He suddenly turned to Shellie and said, "Miss Shellie-Minelli-With-Corn-In-Her-Belly, I've got a good idea."

He watched the rest of the movie, then carefully put it away in the DVD jacket like he always did.

"Want to go down to the shop for a while?" he asked Shellie and Dingo.

Tadpole spent a lot of time down at the shop. That was part of his normal routine when he came to stay with Paula. He would first watch a Middle Ages movie and then spend a couple of hours down at the shop building something with all the tools Mike had there.

Dingo immediately jumped up, pricked up his ears and wagged his tail. He loved going to the shop. Besides being a shop, it was home to many mice and rats and squirrels and other creatures that Dingo loved to hunt and chase.

Shellie stayed where she was. She didn't go to the shop unless she had no choice, not anymore at least. She used to go down there all the time with Tadpole and Dingo. But that had changed after a four-foot oak snake had almost caught her there one day.

Neither Tadpole nor Dingo had much fear of the snake. But Shellie felt otherwise. Particularly since the snake had grown even more since he had last chased her. Shellie had decided it was simply better for her health and well-being to spend her time somewhere else besides the shop.

After Tadpole and Dingo left the house, Shellie went to the kitchen where Paula was canning pineapple pears. The two pear trees in the backyard were heavy with fruit this year. The pears were ripe and falling on the ground. Paula had gone out to the trees that morning and filled up three bucket. She had decided to make a pear cobbler for supper and to can the rest of the pears for the winter months. Mike greatly enjoyed canned pineapple pears in the middle of winter.

Shellie stayed in the kitchen with Paula for about an hour. But when Paula started heating up the large pots of water to cook the jars of pears in, Shellie decided it would be cooler outside. She left through the dog door, went around to the front yard, and took her usual place under the banana tree.

Shellie spent a lot of time lying under the banana tree. It offered a number of advantages for a chicken. It provided lots of good shade and kept the ground cool. Plus, it was the perfect place to watch everything that went on in the front yard. Shellie could doze away there in great comfort, yet immediately see if anything or anyone came up the driveway. Also, lots of insects were attracted to the tree.

Shellie could often lie there and just wait until an insect came by. She didn't even need to stand up to catch one. Shellie particularly liked eating lady-bugs, and the banana tree attracted lots of them.

After about half an hour under the banana tree and having eaten four or five lady-bugs, Shellie began to doze off. It was a warm day but the cool shade of the banana tree and the cool ground under her belly made her drowsy.

She closed her eyes and heard the faint sounds of Tadpole hammering away on something down at the shop. She could also occasionally hear Paula rattling some of the jars of pineapple pears in the kitchen.

Shellie felt safe and content. She soon dropped off to sleep and started dreaming about sweet, juicy lady-bugs crawling toward the shade of the banana tree. In her dream, she was about ready to nab one when she heard a loud sound.

"WHHHHHOPPPPPPPPPPPPPP!"

Shellie opened her eyes, jumped up and looked around. At first she didn't see anything.

Then she heard the sound of something heavy and fast flying through the air behind her.

"WHHHHHOPPPPPPPPPPPPPP!"

It was exactly the same sound as before.

Shellie jerked her head around to see what it was.

There lay a smashed, overripe pineapple pear not three feet from where Shellie had been lying.

"WHHHHHOPPPPPPPPPPPPPP!"

Another one! This one hit the ground about ten feet away.

Shellie looked up in the sky. There was no pear tree here in the front yard. The only pear trees anywhere near were the two in the back yard. They were at least 200 yards away. Shellie knew that there was no way that pears could fall that far from the trees. She also knew that the banana trees didn't bear pears of any kind.

As Shellie was looking upward, she saw something she had never seen before. A large, overripe pineapple pear came flying over the roof of the house.

The pear started falling toward her. Just in time, Shellie jumped to the side. The pear landed right where she had been standing.

Shellie let out a very loud squawk.

Another pear came flying over the roof.

Shellie squawked again.

Then another pear, and another and another.
Shellie squawked loudly each time and ran around the side of the house toward the kitchen. The banana tree was clearly no longer a safe place to snooze.

Paula had heard the first squawk but not paid it any attention. Even the second squawk hadn't bothered Paula much. After all, chickens squawk and Shellie was a chicken. But the third and fourth squawk made her suspicious.

Paula stuck her head out the front door and saw Shellie running toward the side of the house.

"Shellie!" Paula called. "What in the world is wrong?"

Right then, another pineapple pear came flying over the house. It flew right into the banana tree and broke off one of the giant leaves that provided shade for Shellie.

"Shellie, get in the house!" Paula cried. She held the front door open. Shellie changed directions and came running inside as fast as she could go.

"WHHHHHOPPPPPPPPPPPPPP!"

Another pear hit the ground, this time about ten feet from the banana tree.
Paula walked out into the front yard and looked upward.

Shellie watched her from behind the front door.

Paula suddenly jumped to the side.

"WHHHHHOPPPPPPPPPPPPPP!"

Another pear hit just a couple of feet from where she had been standing.

"My God!" Paula swore, and she wasn't a woman who swore a lot. She often got onto Tadpole for saying such things, although it was largely a losing battle since both Mike and April swore frequently.

Another pear came flying over the roof of the house as Paula stood there.

Paula didn't hurry for much of anything, but today she hurried toward the back yard.
For a few seconds, Shellie didn't hear anything.

"WHHHHHOPPPPPPPPPPPPPP!" Another pear hit the ground.

Then Shellie heard Paula scream, "Stop that! You're gonna kill somebody!"

Shellie listened carefully. She could hear Paula fussing at somebody. The fussing went on for a couple of minutes. Shellie rarely heard her fuss in such a manner.
But at least the flying pears stopped. No more came flying over the roof.

Shellie ran through the house and ventured carefully out of the dog door. She looked up to see if any pears were falling there. Fortunately, the pear storm seemed to have ended.

Shellie cautiously left the house through the dog door. She saw Paula, Tadpole and Dingo standing there. Paula had a very serious, almost angry look on her face. She was saying something very stern to Tadpole.

Tadpole had a guilty expression on his face. He looked like he wished he were far away, perhaps in one of the countries where the Middle Ages had taken place.
As Shellie got nearer, she saw a pail of pineapple pears on the ground. Beside it lay a strange looking contraption.

She took a closer look. She realized she had seen one like it before. It was a smaller version of one she had seen in one of Tadpole's movies about the Middle Ages. In the movies, warriors had used the contraption to catapult stones and large clumps of burning wood into castles or cities they were trying to defeat.

The contraption made Shellie shudder. In one of Tadpole's movies, she had even seen a warrior using the contraption to catapult dead chickens over a castle wall.