What Came First? The Chicken or the ...
Story? Well for me, the chicken came first... 7 of them! Cute little fluffy chicks that could fit in the palm of your hand. Being a new owner of chickens, they had to live in our bathtub for the first 3 months of their lives. That was quite an adventure to say the least... especially after they discovered their wings! I can honestly say that I have never cleaned up so much poop and dust! The upside to it all, however, was the close interaction we had with our little feathery friends. We named all of them when we soon discovered they each had their own personalities. Butterball, being the favorite, was known to sit on my shoulder, jump on my head and was full of love and energy. Our dog Chessie was exposed to the girls early on. We worked hard at taming his natural instinct to wanting to eat them, making sure to refer to them as "chickee" not as “chicken.” He has become the big brother we knew he could be (or at least hoped he would be!) With so much real-life material around me, as I have immersed myself in all thing's chickens, I had a story in the making. My mom would hear my daily tales of “Chessie with his chicks,” and soon, as mothers do, was urging me to write a children’s book. So… fast-forward to a few days ago. As I sat in the garden, watching the chickees free-range with Chessie shadowing their every move… the story came. It is a twist on the classic fairy tale, Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, and I guess you could call it a “furtail,” since Chessie is the main character. The story is called “Fur Pants and the Seven Chicks.” (Fur Pants is one of Chessie’s many nicknames that my husband and I have given him.) I have included a sneak peek below! Enjoy!
"Fur Pants and the Seven Chicks."
Once upon a time
In a land not far away,
On a southern farm,
Near the Chesapeake Bay.
Lived a special dog,
Our main character you see,
A Bay Retriever,
With an age of two plus three.
Fur pants is his name,
And no, pants he does not wear
He’s covered in fur,
He’s so cute, I must declare!
He is quite furry,
From his head to his legs,
He loves to eat food,
Especially pancakes and eggs.
But what he does best,
Was what he was born to do,
He is a swimmer,
Across the water so blue.
The story begins,
On a sizzling summer day,
At a heart-shaped pond,
The favorite spot to play.
Here we meet Bear,
The oldest dog on the farm,
Worry in his eyes,
His face covered in alarm.
“What?” he yells at the sky,
To the eagle perched above,
“I’m not the best?”
“I’m not the most loved?”
The eagle flew down,
And pointed into the pond,
With his wing tip,
Touched the water like a magic wand.
Bear’s reflection,
No longer was staring back,
Floating among the plants,
Was the image of Fur pants.
“Ask the pond again,”
The eagle squawked with command,
“Who is the greatest
Swimmer in all of the Land?”
Holding his dog breath,
Bear waited for the reply,
Furpants appeared again,
As Bear let out a deep cry.
“He’s not the greatest,
It has always been me,
I will make sure of it,
All the animals will see.”
Was as black as the night sky,
Love had not found him,
But it would continue to try.
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