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- Story Listed as: Fiction For Kids
- Theme: Survival / Success
- Subject: Courage / Heroism
- Published: 05/23/2011
Whoever Heard of a Hero Chicken
Born 1954, M, from Magalia, California, United States.jpg)
Whoever Heard of a Hero Chicken?
Wobby was a weasel. Wobby didn’t have many friends. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but weasels have a reputation for being sneaky. This is probably because they like peeking at people from shadows, and they can move very quickly around the edge of things. They very rarely just walk across the middle of a clearing in the woods, or through the middle of a barnyard. They just, kind of, slink around the edges or underneath things that hide them. They don’t even think about it. Another thing that makes people think that weasels are sneaky is that smile. Definitely sneaky! One thing that made Wobby smile was chickens. Wobby liked chickens . . . for supper. Wobby really liked chickens.
Benny was a Bantam rooster. Bantams are small chickens with big attitudes. The thing is, with Bantams, is that they can fly, unlike larger chickens that, kind of, hop and flap and run and look goofy. There was nothing goofy about Benny. Benny was very serious. Benny was brave and Benny was tough. Oh, and one more thing. Benny didn’t like foxes or weasels.
On the night of a full moon, Wobby came peeking and sneaking around the barnyard when he spied what he was looking for. The chicken coop. Wobby loooved chicken coops, especially quiet ones where all the chickens were all asleep. The shadows were just right for peeking and sneaking right up to the edge of the chicken coop and all the big, fat, juicy chickens were, indeed, sound asleep. Just the thought of a nice chicken for supper made Wobby quiver and his mouth water. He ran in a couple very tight circles for joy and then quietly, oh so quietly, began to dig under the wire of the coop.
On that night the Bantams had refused to go into the coop, as they often did. As they were too fast to catch when they were in this mood, the farmer had long ago ceased trying to catch them to put them in the coop at night. (The amazing thing was he had yet to lose one to a predator because they were fast and, it seemed, smarter than the other chickens.) This night they had flown up to spend the night in the top of the pear orchard. Obviously, Wobby didn’t know about Bantams. He didn’t know that he was being watched by Benny, perched just overhead. Benny’s feathers began to puff out in anger. Maybe Wobby didn’t know about Bantams yet, but he was about to learn.
If you have never seen a hawk make that beautiful, deadly, dive from the heavens to make its kill to feed itself and its family you have missed a feat of awe inspiring speed and grace. Benny’s attack was nothing like that.
Here’s what you would have seen and heard.
Benny puffed up his body feathers to the size of a soccer ball, while he stretched out his neck so far that his flesh was exposed beneath his feathers. He then screamed his battle cry, “Buck Buck Bugeek!” and launched himself from the limb on which he was standing. Instead of gliding down and striking his victim from behind, he plummeted to the ground next to Wobby like a wad of dirty clothes headed for the hamper and landing heavily for such a small bird. He then bounced back on his tail feathers and slapped Wobby with his feet on both sides of his head before he could turn and face him.
By the time Wobby extricated himself from the start of his tunnel project and turned to see his attacker, Benny was no longer there. Benny was behind him, again balancing on his tail feathers by flapping his wings and slapping Wobby, WHAP! WHAP! Again and again, Benny continued to slap Wobby silly. Wobby spun in circles, unable to get hold of even a feather.
By this time everybody in the barnyard was awake. Wobby went from surprised to angry, to embarrassed, to downright humiliated by the fact that his prospective supper was slapping the puddin’ out of him. This thought caused Wobby to quickly run and hide. As he peeked out of his shadows he decided seriously that it was time to rethink his menu.
Benny was a hero. All the other chickens were so grateful. The cows and sheep were proud of the small chicken. The farmers dog was genuinely impressed, wagging his tail saying, “Whoever heard of a hero chicken?” All Benny said was, “I’m a Bantam. All Bantams are brave and tough. And I can fly!”
Whoever Heard of a Hero Chicken(Ric Wooldridge)
Whoever Heard of a Hero Chicken?
Wobby was a weasel. Wobby didn’t have many friends. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but weasels have a reputation for being sneaky. This is probably because they like peeking at people from shadows, and they can move very quickly around the edge of things. They very rarely just walk across the middle of a clearing in the woods, or through the middle of a barnyard. They just, kind of, slink around the edges or underneath things that hide them. They don’t even think about it. Another thing that makes people think that weasels are sneaky is that smile. Definitely sneaky! One thing that made Wobby smile was chickens. Wobby liked chickens . . . for supper. Wobby really liked chickens.
Benny was a Bantam rooster. Bantams are small chickens with big attitudes. The thing is, with Bantams, is that they can fly, unlike larger chickens that, kind of, hop and flap and run and look goofy. There was nothing goofy about Benny. Benny was very serious. Benny was brave and Benny was tough. Oh, and one more thing. Benny didn’t like foxes or weasels.
On the night of a full moon, Wobby came peeking and sneaking around the barnyard when he spied what he was looking for. The chicken coop. Wobby loooved chicken coops, especially quiet ones where all the chickens were all asleep. The shadows were just right for peeking and sneaking right up to the edge of the chicken coop and all the big, fat, juicy chickens were, indeed, sound asleep. Just the thought of a nice chicken for supper made Wobby quiver and his mouth water. He ran in a couple very tight circles for joy and then quietly, oh so quietly, began to dig under the wire of the coop.
On that night the Bantams had refused to go into the coop, as they often did. As they were too fast to catch when they were in this mood, the farmer had long ago ceased trying to catch them to put them in the coop at night. (The amazing thing was he had yet to lose one to a predator because they were fast and, it seemed, smarter than the other chickens.) This night they had flown up to spend the night in the top of the pear orchard. Obviously, Wobby didn’t know about Bantams. He didn’t know that he was being watched by Benny, perched just overhead. Benny’s feathers began to puff out in anger. Maybe Wobby didn’t know about Bantams yet, but he was about to learn.
If you have never seen a hawk make that beautiful, deadly, dive from the heavens to make its kill to feed itself and its family you have missed a feat of awe inspiring speed and grace. Benny’s attack was nothing like that.
Here’s what you would have seen and heard.
Benny puffed up his body feathers to the size of a soccer ball, while he stretched out his neck so far that his flesh was exposed beneath his feathers. He then screamed his battle cry, “Buck Buck Bugeek!” and launched himself from the limb on which he was standing. Instead of gliding down and striking his victim from behind, he plummeted to the ground next to Wobby like a wad of dirty clothes headed for the hamper and landing heavily for such a small bird. He then bounced back on his tail feathers and slapped Wobby with his feet on both sides of his head before he could turn and face him.
By the time Wobby extricated himself from the start of his tunnel project and turned to see his attacker, Benny was no longer there. Benny was behind him, again balancing on his tail feathers by flapping his wings and slapping Wobby, WHAP! WHAP! Again and again, Benny continued to slap Wobby silly. Wobby spun in circles, unable to get hold of even a feather.
By this time everybody in the barnyard was awake. Wobby went from surprised to angry, to embarrassed, to downright humiliated by the fact that his prospective supper was slapping the puddin’ out of him. This thought caused Wobby to quickly run and hide. As he peeked out of his shadows he decided seriously that it was time to rethink his menu.
Benny was a hero. All the other chickens were so grateful. The cows and sheep were proud of the small chicken. The farmers dog was genuinely impressed, wagging his tail saying, “Whoever heard of a hero chicken?” All Benny said was, “I’m a Bantam. All Bantams are brave and tough. And I can fly!”
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