Fowl Fruit Has Broken

Fowl fruit has broken, like the first fowl fruit
Chicken has spoken, like the first bird
Praise for the laying, praise for the fowl fruit
Praise for the springtime fresh from the cold

Sweet the fowls' new lays, bright eggs like Easter
Like from the PAAS dye, on the fake grass
Praise for the chickens not for the feaster
That feaster needs a swift kick in the...butt

Mine is the sweet, sweet dog we call Juno
She's not the one who eats up the eggs
Praise her for refraining, that's my sweet Juno
Following Ann to lick up the dregs


Chickens like warm weather. We are now finding more than THE EGG each evening. Tonight Farmer H brought in four, two pinkish-brown, and two pastel teal. I heard him come up on the porch. He spoke to my sweet, sweet Juno. Not in a soothing voice, proclaiming her sweet sweetness, making her yearn to lay her smooth black muzzle on his chest, and perhaps give a quick jab of her black rubbery nose into his mouth. No. Condescendingly. Perhaps making her sit down and lean against the cedar siding, sizing him up. "You no like Juno? No pet? Why so harsh? Juno love." Yes, my sweet, sweet Juno thinks like a recent immigrant might speak. I hope she does not grasp the full meaning of Farmer H's soliloquy:

"Yeah, Juno. Stop eating my eggs!"

Huh. I complimented him on his eggs when he entered the kitchen, trying to usurp the running faucet to wash his harvest. "Ooh! Those are pretty ones. I see they're laying again."

"Your dog didn't get them all today."

"Right. Blame Juno. She doesn't eat them. She follows Ann and licks out of the shell."

"She took my egg Friday night. I laid it down while I went down to the cabin for a while, and when I came back, it was gone! Juno ate it!"

"Did you see her take it? Only a fool would lay an egg down within a dog's reach, and expect it to be there when he came back. Ann takes the eggs. Look how fat she is! Juno is slim. No way is she eating twelve eggs a day." (Her coat is just naturally silky.)


"Ann is fatter because she's a better hunter!"

"As if she could be a better hunter than Juno! Juno runs rings around Ann. Besides. Maybe you have more eggs now because Tank isn't here to eat the eggs anymore."

"Tank didn't eat the eggs."

"He was a hound. He ate everything he could get his mouth on. Besides, half the time, he SLEPT IN THE CHICKEN HOUSE!"

"You'll see. Juno is the egg-eater."

I'd like to know when I'm going to see that. Perhaps Farmer H is hiring a private detective to follow her. I might need to adjust Farmer H's allowance.