Speaking Of Chickens

Some of you may remember in the fall that I followed the story of a certain chicken that belonged to my young friend Elie in Buja. including the miraculous birth of a baby chicken. And imminent danger to the chicken.

Well , by the time I got to Buja Elie had sold the mother chicken to Gilbert the houseman, and the chicken had gone up country to the wife of Gilbert to meet it's fate.

The miraculous daughter of the chicken was still in the yard. A fine looking red hen, but there the similarity to any chicken I ever met ceased. I have told you that everything in Burundi is tougher, smarter and frequently more dangerous than the equivalent thing here. The chicken was no exception. She patrolled the yard fairly ceaslessly. She had the movement of a velociraptor ala Jurassic Park. She could take a bug out of the air from two feet away. I have never seen a more hypervigilent creature. The kids told me that she also ate lizards, which I had no trouble believing. Then one day from the terrace I watched her attack, kill and eat a sparrow. It was a truly disturbing sight! Chickens just shouldn't be that ferocious. I did not think to take a picture of the chicken - My picture taking activity always decreases with fear. About halfway through the visit, this chicken also disappeared. We had chicken on the table that week. They told me it was not the same one - I think the thought I would have hurt feelings about eating the family chicken - In this case I don't think it would have bothered me.

Which allows me to tell the story of Madame and Monseur Bunny.
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