It was a dark moonless night. Out in the chicken coop the three hens were huddled in the back of the laying box.

“Girls, this has gotten serious. We need to do something soon.”

“You are right, Ophelia,” said Lucy as she absently scratched her head with her middle toe.

“But what can we do? She is so much bigger than we are and besides I really don’t mind it so much. I don’t think she is being mean or trying to hurt us.” said Moji.

“Well I hate it. I feel like I am being mauled every time she picks me up. She feels my chest, looks at my eyes, under my wings and she even looks at my butt for Heaven’s sakes. It’s humiliating.” Ophelia grumbled.

Moji replied, “But then she always cuddles and strokes us. That feels kinda good.”

“Are you telling us you like being turned upside down and having your butt examined? What’s with that anyway? Is she some kind of pervert?” cried Lucy.

Moji just put her head down and pretended to concentrate on the lizard skittering across the hay.

“Another thing,” said Lucy, “have you noticed how she is constantly watching us out of that little window in the corner of the house? That freaks me out. It’s as if she is sizing us up for the frying pan.”

“I know,” answered Ophelia. “We just can’t have any privacy. She is either watching or handling. I don’t like it. We need to put a stop to it now. Any ideas?”

“You girls figure it out. I’m going to bed.” Moji jumped up onto the perch and closed her eyes.

“Moji has the right idea for now. Let’s sleep on it and we’ll come up with something in the morning before the nosy caretaker comes to let us out for the day.” With that Ophelia and Lucy joined Moji on the perch.

*****

As the sun came up over the horizon next morning the hens were once again in a huddle. A lot of clucking was going on in the coop.

“I have a plan,” announced Ophelia. “When she comes to let us out for the day we’ll all fly in her face and attack. Use your beaks and claws girls. Fight with everything you have. We’ll show her that she can’t manhandle us anymore.”

“That will make her back off for sure. No more looking at our butts or prying open out mouths.” Lucy chimed in.

“No more hugs or cuddles.” said Moji rather sadly.

“Get over it, feather-brain.” snapped Ophelia. “You’re acting like a chicken.”

“I am a chicken. I happen to like the snuggles. Did you ever stop to think that maybe she is just caring for us and making sure that we are not sick or hurt?” Moji snapped back. “I’m not going to attack. Who will feed us and keep our coop clean if we kill her?”

“We won’t kill her. We’ll just scare her real bad so that she will be afraid to touch us ever again.” Lucy answered.

“OK”, said Ophelia, “let’s get to it. Have you girls got the plan down?” Remember, when she opens the door to the coop everybody fly straight at her face pecking and clawing.”

Lucy and Moji both nodded but secretly Moji decided she did not want to hurt the caretaker. She would stay back and just pretend that she had attacked.

*****

At exactly 8:15 the hens heard the gate open to the place where the dogs were let into to. As the nosy caretaker came to the gate to their area, the hens looked at each other and nodded.

“Good morning girls. Are you ready to come out for the day?” Sam called as she approached the chicken coop door.

“Come to Mama,” clucked Ophelia.

Nosy Sam unlocked the padlock on the coop and opened the door. With loud squawks and flailing feathers the two pissed off pagans of poultry flew into her face. Fortunately Sam’s glasses protected most of her face but the hens did manage to get in a few pecks to the head and a couple scratches to the arms.

“Wow, you must be anxious to get out this morning. How about some cracked corn?” Sam asked as she spread the corn on the ground. Ophelia and Lucy ran over to the corn and started pecking. Moji stood in the doorway watching. Sam noticed her waiting and walked over to the coop.

“Hi Moji, want a snuggle?” and she reached out to pick up the hen who settled into her arms with a soft cluck. Ophelia and Lucy looked up and sighed.

“We’ll try again tomorrow.” whispered Ophelia.

The Eclectic Pen - Two and a Half Rebel Hens

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