U3A Writing: Why Did The Chicken Cross The Road?
Wilma Schmidt’s story provides an answer to an age-old question.
This chicken was a soul-searching, deep-thinking chicken that lived in a battery cage on a poultry farm in Castlemaine, in the deep heart of Victoria. She had never known her parents and she often wondered what they looked like. Was her dad a tall strong Australorp as she had been told by old granny Cackles? She always suspected that her mother may have been a Weindot, as her own plumage had led her to believe this could be so.
She gave a little sigh, remembering her upbringing with all the other orphaned chickens. What had happened to her parents, and why were there no other older chickens around to pass on stories of family doings? She had enjoyed her occasional chats with old granny Cackles who was the family pet of the farmer's daughter. There were times, however when what granny had to say made her question, "Why am I here?"
Tonight, came the opportunity she had been waiting for. The farmer's son had not secured the latch to her cage when he had replenished the straw. As dark came she waited and observed her companions who were unable to keep their eyes open. In the blackness she felt for the opening in the doorway and scampered out into the night.
She looked back over her shoulder, but there were no lights or sounds coming from the farm. So far so good, she congratulated herself. Once she had been missed, they would set the dogs on her trail. That would be the end of her, this she knew.
She wrestled with the idea that had dominated her brain over the last several days. She had overheard the hired helpers in the poultry shed talking about being given a second chance at life with something they called "cloning."
This was all unknown territory for her, but she had decided she must put all her eggs in one basket, and seek out Dr Gertrude Felsberg. She would offer herself for experimentation at the Cloning Institute. Her life experiences had been so few she could probably count them all on three pin feathers.
The lights beckoned. She saw a brightly lit building bearing the letters K.F.C. on its doors. Then a little further on she could make out the words "Cloning Institute" on a very handsome building. Her destiny beckoned! She crossed the road to where she could see people in white coats. Now was her chance!
