3 out of 4 chickens in this picture are happy campers in the coop. Then there’s Ms. Discontent up there by the window. She wants out out out.
She desperately wants to be with her BFFs, who have already found the outside world this morning.
If only she would turn around (& gain a grey cell or two), she’d see that there’s a big, fat door wide open on the other side of the coop. I could grab ‘er & point ‘er in the right direction, but I’m sure (no, I’m absolutely positive) that she’d find that rude & unacceptable.
Are chickens smarter than turkeys? Yeah. But sometimes I think it’s a very close call.
“Mrs. Threadgoode pulled something out of the Cracker Jack box and all of a sudden her eyes lit up. “Oh Evelyn, look! Here’s my prize. It’s a little miniature chicken… just what I like!” and she held it out for her friend to see.”
~~ Fannie Flagg, ‘Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe’
Ooooh, ooooh! I have one of those tiny miniature plastic chickens in amongst my houseplants — left over from my deprived childhood. (The plastic chicken is left over, not the houseplants.) Some girls played with Barbies & Kens. Not me.