It was a sad, sad day last winter when Penelope, the friendliest and most beloved of all the chickens, was found dead in the coop. The humans say she was probably egg-bound, but the chickens themselves have their own theories. The leghorns, known for their lightening speed, said it was her own fault for getting too friendly with the visitors. "She should have run faster when visitors came around. Visitors have germs. Everyone knows this. Especially the little ones with the runny noses." The rest of the hens dismissed this theory, particularly Deirde, who is sort of an expert on theoretical things. "We hens are immune to the various pustulant illnesses that afflict our visitors. No, I suspect something more sinister..." she lowered her voice, "...I think she may have been murdered in her sleep." A hush fell over the coop.
Penelope was taken out into the yard and was given a ceremonial burial. A candle was passed around and words were spoken in honor of Penny's warmth and vivacity. She will be missed most of all by the neighborhood children, as she was the only chicken they were ever able to catch. Even when they picked her up by the wings, she didn't complain. Even when they petted her too hard and made her head twist into funny angles, she always came back for more. She wasn't a real quick learner, but she sure was friendly.
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