Being born is a bit of a hazy memory I just seemed to wake up one day and there I was. After a look around and a nudge from what must have been my mum, I got up and began looking for food.
Life was happy and comfortable and I managed to keep out of everyone’s way and grow up to become a producer myself. Days drifted by.
It was the calm before the storm.
We were attacked by a cruel predator. He was merciless in his destruction and one by one all of my family was pulled down and bitten horribly. I was badly bitten myself and would surely have been dead had not help arrived in response to our hysterical screaming.
I simply must have fainted because I awoke to a hand grasping at my feet. I began to squawk as loudly as I could, I was terrified. I was pulled from my hiding place. I could not muster any strength to resist.
I was laid on a bed of clean straw. My neck was cut and bleeding, parts of my neck and parts of my back had been torn out, my head hung lifeless, I was unable to stand. I just lay on the warm straw and drifted in and out of consciousness.
I could hold my head up. I was strong enough to feed myself.
Life went on and days drifted together. It was all back to normal, or so I thought.
My will to survive had triumphed and that along with the kindness of strangers had pulled me through the worst experience of my young life.
Ever since the predator incident I had stopped laying and everyone, including me, thought my egg-laying days were over. But life never fails to surprise and now I have a new home. Yes, I am laying daily and everyone is pleased with me.
Life on the farm is great, there is never a dull moment.
By: Dawn La Puma
The Serendipity Gallery