Do you see what I see

Frankie, Zorro and I got to see the chickens for the first time yesterday afternoon.  Frankie and I were pulling weeds (well I was pulling, she was watching) along the edge of the pea gravel sidewalk at the back of my house.  I have discovered if I do this once every two weeks I can have that boring job done in about fifteen minutes.

Anyway, we suddenly hear a sound we've never heard before, like somebody running over chicken wire.  We look at each other, and quickly turn in the direction of the chicken coop.  Inside, the downstairs of the structure are chickens.  The area is small, and with them all crammed together I can't tell for sure how many there are.  Four I think. 

There are two big black ones I'll call Milly and Mabel, one that is the regular farm yard variety we probably all grew up with, I'll call Penny,  and a smaller white one I've named Florence.  Apparently they are all under house arrest.  The three larger ones seem to have accepted their fate, and are simply lounging about.

However, Florence is not taking well to her confinement.  In fact, I think I now fully understand the meaning of "stir-crazy".  Seriously, if this 'chick' could talk...

"Le' me outta here!"
"I can't stans' it in here!"
" Come on, le' me out, I gotta get outta here!"
"I'm goin', mad, I tell ya, mad!"

Florence is lickity-splittin back and forth, back and forth, then suddenly makes a mad dash around the interior perimeter of her chicken wired cell.  She does not even care if she runs into her cell mates, who are looking at her with the same bewildered look we have on our faces.  Every once in a while a strange sound come from deep within her.  It's not a contented cluck, no, Florence is emitting a sound I think I would make if somebody were trying to kill me. 

As we all took in this bizarre scene, Frankie seems ready to scale the fence and rescue Florence.

Zorro, who at first showed surprise, stood tall and sniffed the air, proceeded to lift his leg at various intervals, the length of the fence, till he ran dry and was ready to go back in the house.

As for me, I was transfixed.  The last few weeks have been so weird, curious, peculiar, indeed...a real adventure.

I feel sorry for Milly, Mabel, Penny and Florence.  Poor, poor chickens...I hope in time they are allowed to roam free.  I think eventually Milly, Mabel and Penny will settle in and do just fine, till...well, I don't want to think about that.  However...the little white one, Florence...I sense she is sooo "gonna' be outta" here.  Look out freedom...here she comes.