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Quiet, Waiting, Somewhat Apprehensive

This morning one of the six remaining old girls is moving very slowly, head tucked in. With chickens, this is not a good sign. She responded to bread as a treat, got off the roost, but is showing a preference for standing in the strong morning sun.

It is, I hesitate to say, The Great Walkabout. When civilization as we know it has collapsed under its own weight and we huddle around makeshift campfires in the wasted wilderness, bards will yet sing her story to wondering children and adults alike.

Frog Out



( 6 comments — Leave a comment )
Apr. 17th, 2008 12:57 pm (UTC)
Alas, poor Walkabout!
Apr. 17th, 2008 02:02 pm (UTC)
Oh, I'm sorry, Oz.
Apr. 17th, 2008 03:12 pm (UTC)
Aww, poor chicken. :>(
Apr. 17th, 2008 06:23 pm (UTC)
Oh, oh. I hope she's just having an off day. If not, Hero bird, we will remember you.
Apr. 17th, 2008 06:36 pm (UTC)
I am speechless...
Apr. 17th, 2008 08:36 pm (UTC)
Awwww. This made me strangely quite sad. How your chicken hath affected us!
( 6 comments — Leave a comment )