A chicken yard is first on my list
|By OPAL "GRANDMA" HABISCH|
This is the second in a 10-week series of stories about Joe, the pot-bellied pig. Last week, Joe and his owner, Fred, had just moved to a house in the country. Joe tells the story.
I guess you could call Fred and me farmers. We have no cows, but it is still a small farm.
Fred is fixing up our farmhouse. He is painting all of the walls inside and it looks very nice. In fact, I think this is the prettiest house we have ever lived in.
The best part about living in the country is that I don't have to run and hide if someone comes to the door. I was always hiding when we lived in the city, because my neighbors didn't think I should be living in Fred's house. Here, I can do whatever I want.
I spend my days watching the new TV that Fred bought. I don't go outside much, as I don't like the chickens that live on this farm. I wish Fred would decide to get rid of them. I don't eat eggs anyway.
Iget to eat from my dish in the kitchen, while Fred eats his dinner. I really feel like part of the family.
And I don't have to have papers spread on the kitchen floor here either, because now, I can go outside whenever I want.
The only problem is that big black chicken. I call her Blackie. Whenever I step outside, she runs right over and tells me to go to the pig barn.
I tell Blackie that I am not that kind of pig and that I live in the house with Fred. But she insists that Fred is going to put me out with the other pigs, someday. I hope she is wrong. I really don't like the way those pigs smell.
Fred said that we will start working on the outside of the house next, and I can't wait to put up a chicken yard for Blackie so that chicken can't come and bother me. That chicken really makes me angry.
Yesterday, Fred showed me some plans for a porch he is going to build on the back of the house. It will have railings all around it, and it will be big enough for us to have a table and chairs and eat our meals out there. I can't wait.
We went to the lumber yard to order the materials. Fred said the men will start working on the porch on Monday.
"But, Fred," I asked. "What about the chicken yard? Can't we do that first?
"Oh, the chicken yard will have to wait," Fred said. "The men have to do some digging for the porch. It will take some time to get everything ready. We will make the chicken yard when the porch is done."
So, now, it looks like I will still have to put up with Blackie. She makes my life miserable. What am I going to do about that chicken?
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