The Tale of Little Bad Hen

Once upon a time there were five little hens.  They lived in a little wooden hut in a wood.  A  nice family of humans had adopted them, made meals and cleaned for them.  Every time the family cleaned the hut, they made sure there was a fresh copy of the Financial Times on the floor for the hens to read while they were resting at home.

Sometimes, the family went on holiday, and then they asked their neighbours Margaret and Malcolm to take over housekeeping duties.  Every night at 8 o’clock, these servants-next-door popped round, made sure the hens were in bed, and shut the hut door firmly.

One night one of the hens, Little Bad Hen, decided not to go home.  She was having such fun in the woods, grubbing for windfalls and worms: and besides, it was still light.  Nobody had told her that Mr. Fox lived nearby, and had hungry cubs to feed.  Luckily for her, nobody had told Mr. Fox that Little Bad Hen was out and about.  She got away with it, and came scuttling back as soon as one of the servants-next-door appeared to serve breakfast the following morning.

Little Bad Hen.

Little Bad Hen kept this up for four whole nights, clucking smugly to herself as she heard the servants-next-door scurrying about the woods, peering under logs and into hidey-holes searching for her.  On the fifth evening, it rained. Little Bad Hen looked up at the sky.  She considered the secret-but-chilly and damp shelter that she’d found, under little Felix’s toy wheelbarrow.  Perhaps that wooden hut, where she could cuddle up to her friends and sisters was a better idea after all.  She might even think about laying those servants-next-door an egg.

Normal egg. One laid by Little Bad Hen or friend.

 

49 thoughts on “The Tale of Little Bad Hen”

  1. Hee hee, took me back to my childhood and a chick that thought the sky was falling down! Wonderful story, and so glad she didn’t have a different tale to tell the neighbours!!

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  2. Little Bad Hen doesn’t know when she’s well off. Such a lovely life! I do hope that her adventurous streak doesn’t deliver us a sombre second chapter! Good luck tonight!

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  3. I expect she’s missing her Financial Times. The Guardian just doesn’t do the business, and besides how is she to know the daily comparative state of the market for different egg sizes. One thing though, she’s definitely free range. As long as she’s not getting too free…..

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  4. Charmingly told, the tale of the Little Bad Hen. Occasionally I toy with the idea of keeping hens, but even charmingly told tales like this one make me think that hen-care is likely to be more stressful than not having hens …

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  5. Oh a well told story indeed, Margaret! Just love it ♥- and hope she will stay alive to run away again and again. my son is planning to have hens – but I think I would be too worried. One of our friends got mr Fox inside the henhouse resulting in 20 dead or dying.

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  6. What a fun post, Margaret! I am so glad you didn’t have to break bad news to your friends. Mr and Mrs Fox are causing havoc round here. Farming friends sleep with their 2-bore rifle next to their bed after losing lots of rare-breed poultry earlier this year.

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