“I’m bored,” the little rooster sighed. “Same thing, day in and day out.” Doug was the only rooster in a flock of seven chickens. He had a good life. The chicken coop was large enough so that everyone had their own space to move around in, the food bucket was always full, the water always fresh. Most of the time the door to the coop was left open which allowed Doug and his flock to come and go as they pleased. It was safely situated in the middle of a big, fenced in yard. The flock enjoyed the freedom of pretty much doing whatever they wanted to do. Even so, Doug felt restless.

Now, little Doug had mastered the art of hopping over the safety fence. “Naughty boy! Get back in there with your girls!” the lady in the yellow house would scold. Still, every morning after breakfast, Doug would fly right over the fence and stand proudly on the other side leaving Brownie, Porridge, Checkers, Lily, Cher and Phoebe pleading for his return to the safe side. “Come back!” Lily would call. “You’ll be eaten by the fox!” Cher wailed. Doug paid them no mind. He wondered around the yard, inspecting the perimeter, looking for new things to do. He’d visit the squirrels and wild birds at the hanging feeder. Doug was fascinated by stories of their adventures…‘out there’. “Tell me more!” he’d implore.

The squirrels told tales of out-running hungry hawks, foxes and coyotes.  “One almost got Henry but he darted to the very top of that tree over there, just in time!”

“Yeah, and my Mom and I ran all the way to the other side of the yard to get away from a giant hawk! We hid behind that big rock all night until it got annoyed and flew away!”

“Wow!” Doug exclaimed.  Blue Jays regaled chasing crows away from babies in nests, chipmunks bragged of their stockpiles of delicious nuts and berries they’d gathered, and all of them described the thrill of leaping from one branch to another as they played in towering treetops. Doug’s eyes glazed over in excitement. He imagined what fun he’d have even if he could do only one of those things. “Come on!” a tiny chipmunk beckoned. “Come play with us!”

“Hmmmm,” he thought out loud. Doug looked over at his flock and then to the safety of his coop. “Bah,” he exclaimed. “Booooring!” Without a second thought, he raced to catch up with the tiny chipmunk who was now on the heels of a gang of squirrels darting up a tall tree. “No Doug! Come back Doug! Dooouugggg!” all the hens screamed together.

Doug did not look back. He hopped up onto the first branch.  “So easy,” he thought to himself. “Higher!” the tiny chipmunk hollered. Doug jumped up onto the second branch. “Still easy,” he said. “C’mon slow poke. Higher!” the chipmunks and squirrels all yelled in unison. That third branch was at a dizzying height and Doug wasn’t sure he’d be able to make it up there. “Oh no. I don’t want to let my new friends down,” he worried. He stared at the branch, puzzling on how he’d get himself up there. Fortunately for Doug, the leader of the squirrel pack decided to run down the tree and across the lawn. They all followed, zig-zagging this way and that. “Phew,” Doug sighed out loud. He clung tightly to the second branch, relieved that he did not have to go any higher.

Just then, an old crow shimmied up next to Doug. “Say sonny,” she wheezed. “Could you hold this berry for me?” and before Doug could protest the old crow shoved the berry from her beak into his beak and flew off. “Thief!” an angry Blue Jay squawked and flew at lightning speed right toward Doug! Panic shot through his little body and without thinking, Doug hurled himself out of the tree and onto the ground. “Thank you. I’ll take that now,” the old crow announced. She snatched the berry from Doug’s beak and rudely flew off without even asking Doug whether or not he was alright. “Ouch,” Doug said to himself.

Nevertheless, Doug was undeterred. This was his day of fun, and nothing was going to stop him. He brushed himself off and strutted across the large back yard and over to the trickling brook to have a refreshing drink of water. “Word out here says this is the best water in the world.” He bent down to take a swallow. The water was cool and fresh. “Tastes the same as it does at home. Oh, well,” he shrugged. “What’s next?” The little rooster walked on, and then a little further. “I bet the grass tastes better here,” he thought as he pecked at the long blades. “Yum, yum, yum, yummy….. bleh!” he coughed. He did not enjoy the bits of dead leaves and pieces of twigs and other foreign tasting bits that mingled with the lush looking greens. “Yuck!” he choked, disappointed.

It was now late and the sun would soon be setting. He shuttered at the thought of encountering a coyote or a fox. The little rooster hung his head. “I guess I’ll just go home,” he said, defeated. He dragged his feet as he reluctantly headed back in the direction of the red chicken coop. As he got closer, he could hear cheering and whistling. It was the squirrels and chipmunks he’d been playing with. “Well, well. Look at you. You made it!” said the leader squirrel who had darted past Doug on his way down the tree earlier that day.

Doug also heard the familiar clucks and coos of Brownie, Checkers, Porridge, Lily, Cher and Phoebe. “I see Doug! He’s coming home! He’s not hurt! Yahoooo!” the flock squawked with relief.

Doug quietly walked past the squirrels and chipmunks. He stood next to the safety fence. The little rooster was motionless for a long while. He scaled the horizon of ‘out there’ while he went over the details of his day of fun. “My fun day wasn’t so fun,” he admitted to everyone watching. “Oh, Doug. Maybe you can try again tomorrow,” the oldest hen, Brownie, suggested.  “We’ll all worry about you but we want you to be happy and you deserve a day of fun.” Doug bowed his head. “I’m a big dumb-dumb,” he said. He flapped his wings and looked up at the fence ready to hop over to his girls.

“Wait!” It was the voice of the wheezy crow. She walked up to Doug and dropped the berry at his feet. “You earned this,” she said. “Such a brave young man. No farm animal has any business being out here in the wild.” The old crow let out a chirp of authority and flew off.  Doug was very still. He picked up the berry and hopped onto the safety of his grass, in his yard, with his ladies. He laid the berry down and carefully divided it into six small pieces. “For you,” he nodded to the six hens. Each one picked up her piece as if devouring it. But instead, they tenderly returned each piece to Doug. “We’re so happy to see you!” they all exclaimed.

As the six chickens and one little rooster all perched together that night, Doug was overwhelmed. “I’m so thankful to be home!” he cock-a-doodle-dooed at the top of his lungs. The girls and Doug all cozied together a little tighter. “There’s no place like home,” young Phoebe declared. “Home Sweet Chicken Coop,” Checkers and Porridge murmured simultaneously.  “Home Sweet Chicken Coop,” the lady in the yellow house (who’d been worrying all day about her beautiful, brave little man) breathed in relief, “Home Sweet Chicken Coop indeed!”

Cindy Bezanson (for Sam’s boys)