Ms. Goldspeak had a few years to help each fowl improve his or her language skills before Peggy gave up the farm in 2012. The following letters demonstrate who improved greatly and who, not so much.
Dear Chase,
Ever since Peggy sold the farm, and we were thrown to the four winds, I’ve been hiding in the back of the hen house wringing my wings. This new place gives me the creeps, what with swooping hawks and digging coons, it’s just not safe living here. There is no wire roof of any kind, so we have to lock ourselves in the hen house 24/7 to feel safe. If you have been given to a better chicken keeper let me know, please.
Sue
Dear Sue,
I now live in a chicken tractor. It’s, uh, like a rectangular, wooden structure without a floor covered with chicken wire. It has a hen house built up into the back, you know. and a little ladder to get up there to roost at night and for the hens to lay. It’s on wheels, you know what I mean, so the owner can move the tractor at night to another area of the yard where you can find new bugs and grubs. I’m like, a bit claustrophobic, but there are only five hens, all my size, and I’m the only rooster who gets to breed them, so I’m like, in heaven. 🙂
Chase
Hey, my Man,
‘Sup, Dude? I’m really chillin’ in my new digs. I’m in a hug chicken yard with all hens and no other roosters! Check it out! Rad, huh? If a chick even looks at me wrong, I can get in her face and, in a heart beat, she’ll squat low like she knows I’ll jump her. But I don’t. I just like strutting and knowing I can. It’s nice being king o;f the roost with NO JAYNE to deal with How’s it with you, Bro?
Walt
Dear Walt,
I’m doing okay. Been working hard at saying the right words Ms. Goldspeak has encouraged me to practice. I live inside someone’s house with them now because they like me. They take me sliding in their car, too. They have a ploppy little door that lets me go into the back yard to do my poopy business, but that also lets me come back in to eat and drink from my little bowls and sleep in my bed. They are very kind to me, and I like that a lot. I don’t miss chickens much.
Chuck
Dear Sean,
This is Renee. Have you heard from Jayne? I can’t seem to find her. I landed in a pretty upscale chicken yard. Automated feeders, waterers, lots of time to free range, and fancy nests for laying. l Haven’t heard a word from anyone else, but learned from a new friend you were sent to a special house for the disabled, so I found your address. Please, please, write back.
Renee
Ren-A,
All I no is Jane got to go to this huge plase call Tyson. Hate not havin my fone and havin to larn to spel. 😦 Now, bug off!
Sean
So word spread to Sue, Renee and Walt that Jayne, who was picked up by the Tyson truck, was in serious trouble. Renee convinced them to do the selfless thing, put their disagreements in the past and escape from their new homes to save Jayne from the murder drum where the chickens hang upside down and. . . . Walt promised Sean he’d help get him a phone if he’d come along.
Escaping their coops wasn’t easy, but finding a way and place to meet up was really hard. Fortunately, they realized they were only a mile or so away from the Double Bar M, so avoiding the dogs and hawks was manageable enough for them to meet on the outside of the old Double Bar M gate. They looked back toward their old coop and sniffled, but then returned to the task at hand. They hoped they weren’t going to be too late for Jayne. Sue said she remembered a Tyson truck going down this road toward Seguin every week day about this time, so they hid and waited. Then, as it slowed to make the curve, they hopped onto the back of the truck; only Sean had to be pulled on. Once there, they knew it wasn’t gong to be easy to enter the building because they had to wait for a door to open, and because they were stowaway chickens.
Once inside, Sue whispered “Locating Jayne is gonna be a crap shoot.” Walt whispered back “Just listen for the loudest yap.” They all scowled at him, and he apologized, but not without a chuckle.
I won’t get into any further really grim details, but they found Jayne mired in poo, her feathers drooping, and her head bowed, waiting in line for the hanging drum. Her legs were bound with wire. Walt managed to make his way to her and snip her free with the small cutters he had brought along. Jayne’s demeanor changed dramatically. Still, she was so saddened for the other chickens left in line with her. All five of the BeakSpeak characters kept their heads down and hid behind large vats until they could make their escape out a door left ajar.
How did they get home? Where is home now? I don’t know. I guess that’ll be another blog.
Peggy Marceaux 