Hens on Eggs
Eggs sell like pop in July—fast. As it is the job of a hen to sit on eggs, we hens get fed well. At six, when the sun is up, we get let out of our pen to fill up on bugs. I love to catch wet, rich gobs of bugs! At ten, when the sun is hot, we get fed corn in a big box. (Yes, it is less tasty than bugs.) At six at night, when the sun sets, we get fed corn in our pen.
Life as a hen is fun, yet it is a bit hard at times. Let me tell you about Meg. Meg is not a pet dog or a cat. Meg is not a pig. Meg is not the vet. Meg is a red fox! A fox and a hen are not pals!
On Sunday, the latch in our pen fell open. A cat yell got me up from bed, and I met Meg in the pen. Well, you can bet I let out a yell. But, Meg and I had a chat. Meg had a den that was such a big, wet mess. The hen pen was not a mess. Hens are not pigs! Meg did not need eggs. Meg did need a bed. I let Meg nap until six, but I did not let her get one egg!
Well, Meg and I became pals, but I can tell you, it is not all bugs, naps, and fun as a hen. A hen has a job—it is to sit on eggs.