Doris was a happy girl.
Every morning as the sun began to rise, it would bring just a little bit of light into the sky and Doris would wake up.
She would listen at first, remaining quite still in her box, alert to the night noises as they slowly faded away.
As soon as she could feel the change in the dawn, she would pull her head out from under her wing and open her eyes.
Then the songbirds would begin to greet the day and a feeling of joy would rise up inside her.
‘Day,’ she would whisper in a clucky voice. ‘Day!’
She could tell if the day was going to be sunny by the way the rooster crowed. This morning, he was perkier than ever, which was contagious in the hen house.
She could hear her sisters begin to cluck and murmur, as they stretched and settled themselves for another day in the yard.
Soon they heard the creak and clunk of the door to the house and the footsteps of the man as he came out to open the door of the coop.
She could hear the panting of the dog, Lucy, who was always with him.
Doris didn’t mind Lucy.
She was a big old lab that was friendly to all the chickens, even though her nose sometimes got in the way.
All the girls were excited to go out into the fresh air. The coop always got a bit stuffy by the end of the night, but it was their safe place in the dark night. They were always happy to go inside when it was time.
As soon as it was her turn, Doris went out the little hole that was the door to the coop and walked down the ramp.
She was humming to herself, a song she liked to sing about ‘Day’ and ‘Sisters.’
Her little murmurs were in anticipation of the greens and bits the man was dropping into the feeder.
There was a sudden squawk from the rooster as a large dark shape appeared from the sky. It landed right beside her on the ground, scattering the other hens nearby.
Doris was too stunned to do anything but stand there and look.
The shape turned out to be a large bird with a white head and a hooked beak. It was looking right at her with sharp yellow eyes.
She squealed and tried to run, but it was too late.
It pushed her to the ground with heavy claws and held her there, while she screeched and squirmed, trying to get away.
It started to peck at her, and when it tore a piece of her shoulder, she realized she was in the worst trouble.
Then she heard Lucy, barking as she ran from the yard. The man was coming too. She could hear him yelling.
There was hope, she thought. They would save her.
Then Lucy was right there, growling and rushing at the eagle.
There was a loud whoosh and she could feel the claws tighten their grip as the eagle left the ground. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to stuff her head under a wing so she didn’t have to watch what happened next.
There was a bouncy feeling, and it was quite windy, so she opened her eyes again.
Doris found herself flying through the air. She was hanging upside down so it was making her a bit dizzy.
‘I’m flying,’ she thought. ‘I’ve always wanted to fly.’
There was another thud and Doris landed on something hard. She felt the sharp claws let go. For a moment she was in darkness, trapped underneath the wings of the large bird that had captured her. Then, with a rush of wind, he pushed off and was gone into the sky.
She had landed on her right side, not a natural position for a chicken, so she tried to get her feet underneath her.
For a moment, she was reminded of the hen house. It was soft underneath her feet and smelled a bit musty.
There was another nastier smell as well, and she would have wrinkled up her nose if she had one. Instead, she wiped her beak on her wing.
Then she settled in and proceeded to check herself out all over, to be sure everything was intact. When she was satisfied all was well, she stood up unsteadily and looked around.
She was in a large circle, made of sticks, with sides that were higher than she was so she couldn’t see past them. There were feathers and a mound of smelly bits over to one side. The other side had two large eggs.
Now Doris knew eggs, having laid them on her own every day for years. She moved closer and wiggled her way up against them.
These weren’t that much larger than her eggs, and she could hear little scratching noises coming out of one. She whispered her little clucking noises, the ones she saved for little chickens.
Then she heard a noise in the distance. It was coming from a long way off but Doris knew that bark.
It was Lucy.
She scrambled over to the edge and carefully clambered up the side of the nest. Then she gasped as she saw how far up she was.
For a minute she gave up hope, but then she remembered how it felt to fly and knew she could do anything.
Doris stuck out her wings and closed her eyes.
Then she jumped.
She flew, sort of, for a second, then bounced off the spray of needles covering the first bough. That slowed her down and she squawked in fright.
Then she fell through another cluster of branches and with a final bounce, she was on the ground.
Good old solid ground.
She paused, poking it a bit with her beak, inhaling the sweet earthy smell. It felt good to be lying on the dirt. She found a little bug and ate it, feeling somewhat satisfied with herself.
Then she heard the barking again. It was coming closer.
When Lucy poked her cold nose into her side, Doris almost crowed with relief.
It was going to be alright. Her adventure was nearly over.
A few hours later, after following Lucy home, Doris was back in the yard with the other hens.
She had a good long drink and ate her fill. Then she stopped and looked around. It was a good place to be.
She began humming to herself. Most of her song was the same as before, but some of it had changed.
Now her song included ‘Sky’, and ‘Trees’ and best of all, ‘Flying’.
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Whew! This story had me worried.
One Boxing Day when I was a kid, I opened the chicken coop door and one of the young Bantam hens actually flew out! She was working hard and managed to climb through the air slowly in a straight line, ran right into a big tree. She was stuck up there and my dad sent me up to get her down.
So I know that at least some chickens can fly.
There was a chicken on our farm in Va. She was very curvy.. so much so that we called her Hefty. And despite her weight, she would occasionallly fly uo to join me on the second floor balcony of the old milk house.. An awesome feat!