“Good morning Horse” said Chicken, scratching around in the dry earth for something to eat.
“You’re up early” Horse replied curiously, ambling slowly to the fence and shaking his head. “I don’t usually see you around here.” He munched on a particularly sweet clump of grass at the foot of the paddock fencing. Chickens usually stick to their own end of the farm he thought to himself.
“I didn’t sleep well” Chicken replied, “they stole my babies again yesterday, bastards they are!”
“Again?” Horse responded quizzically, “Do they steal your babies often?” This sounded rather terrible he thought.
“Every time!” Chicken responded, quite upset. “And it isn’t just me. Every morning they turn up and take our babies away and there is nothing we can do!”
Horse considered this for a while. “Nothing at all?” he asked still chewing.
“Not a thing!” Chicken replied. “Have you seen the size of them?”
“They Don’t look that big to me” he replied slowly, swishing his tail.
Horse didn’t object to them particularly, they fed him when he was hungry and in the winter he had a blanket to cover him when it was cold. Only occasionally did the fat bottomed girl come to ride him, so for the most part he was rather content.
“Obviously they don’t look big to you!” Chicken scolded “Look at you, you’re huge!”
“Hmmm.” said horse, he was not one to anger quickly but this sounded most wrong.
“Juliette once tried to give them a good scratch and she got her neck wrung” Chicken continued most animated “how would you like it if someone was stealing your babies and wringing your neck!?” she demanded.
“Most disturbing” Horse ruminated. “Most disturbing indeed.”
Horse considered the situation for some time. He chewed and he thought and he thought and he chewed. “And it’s the fat bottomed girl that steals the babies is it?” he asked.
“Indeed it is, indeed it is!” Chicken replied most upset, “every day she steals my babies!”
“Hmmm” Horse said again. “Not good , not good at all” he mumbled to himself. “Stealing babies indeed.”
“But nothing can be done” said Chicken sadly, “nothing at all!”
Horse said nothing and resumed his breakfast as chicken wandered back to her side of the yard, pecking and scratching and muttering under her breath as she went.
Days and weeks passed, and weeks turned into months and Horse did not see chicken again, but he did not forget the story she had told him of the fat bottomed girl and how she stole Chicken’s babies.
A thin layer of snow lay upon the ground the day fat bottomed girl came to see him. It had fallen unseasonably early he thought as she fastened his blanket on nice and snug. “I hope it isn’t going to be a long winter” he thought to himself.
The girl with the fat bottom only screamed ever so slightly as he kicked out at her as she walked behind him, and as she lay on the ground, blood pooling in the snow about her head he thought of Chicken and her babies before returning to his breakfast.
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Photo courtesy of Jennifer Nichole Wells