Who's Minding the Henhouse?

It's a cool, rainy morning here where I live. Milkweed pods are losing their green color, going a purply-brown, but remain moist and firm for now. Some of the ash, maple and sumac provide brighter colors, though full color remains in the future.

My stepson wrote the story below. When he e-mailed it to me yesterday. my first question was, "Will you give me permission to put it on my blog?" He said yes, so here it is. I'll be interested in readers' interpretations.

"We had a nice chicken coop out back behind the barn. Not too big but just big enough to hold the chickens. One day a very nice wolf knocked on the door and offered to watch the coop for us. We had been worried about neighborhood dogs and coyotes getting at our chickens so we took him up on the offer. He was a very well behaved wolf and well dressed too so we figured, how bad could it be? The wolf started work right away, setting up a little office just inside the door of the coop.

"After a few days things seemed to be going very well. The dogs and coyotes stayed away. The wolf invited some of his friends over to show them what a fine job he was doing guarding the chickens. They all agreed that the coop was as safe as could be.

"Some weeks into the summer we had gotten used to the wolves and they pretty much kept to themselves in the chicken coop. We did notice that egg production was little off but the head wolf assured us that was a temporary situation and offered to offset the loss by working even harder and putting more of his wolf friends on duty to be ever vigilant against the threat of dogs and coyotes. We agreed and complimented the wolf on his new suit of clothes, a shiny silk coat and tie. He thanked us and said it was necessary as his waistline had been growing and his old suit had become uncomfortably tight.

"As summer turned to fall we were busy getting the farm ready for winter. The egg basket was increasingly less full but our harvesting activities took our minds elsewhere and we didn't really miss the occasional omelet here and there. The wolf was a little vague when pressed about the egg decline but finally came up with a plan for future production increases and a promise that a robust egg count could be assured in the early spring. We all agreed that the program looked very promising.

"As winter came and a blanket of snow settled on the farm, the wolves came out of the coop less and less. Dogs and coyotes were nowhere to be seen so we assumed that the production plan was working and that the warmth of the chicken coop was simply more inviting than the chill of the yard. Snow piled up against the door of the coop and we pretty much stopped eating eggs. It was okay though because we had lots of potatoes and grain stored in the cellar.

"Finally the warming rays of sun began to melt the snow and spring announced its arrival. Having not seen much of the wolves we ventured out to the coop to check on the situation. To our total shock and dismay we discovered the coop to be completely devoid of any chickens! And to add to our problems the coop was full of wolves that had grown so fat that they could no longer fit through the door! Our friend the head wolf sadly informed us that all the chickens had been lost. (We did notice some feathers stuck in the corner of his beard.) His friends also heartily agreed that the loss of the chickens was unfortunate indeed and very regrettable and that in order for the egg production plan to work out as planned we would need to go to town and get some more chickens. They agreed too that it would be best for them to continue to guard the coop from the dogs and coyotes so that it would be safe for the new chickens when we returned. The wolves also inquired about the availability of some new larger suits."

- Adam Grath, Minneapolis, MN