The chicken in the mud


Behind the fence, a bunch of animals live. They are there since a long time, they were there before I was even aware of the place. There are ducks, chickens, goats, and deers to be found. In the past I saw rabbits too, but they have completely dissapeared. As well for a while there used to be black swans to, but they moved a couple of months ago to a better place because their living area was under construction.

Why exactly these animals are kept there I’m not sure, all I can guess is that it makes the environment and the neighbourhood nicer. Or that that was the idea behind it. To educate children about animals maybe. I’m not sure – you can’t enter the place.

I like animals, so I don’t mind them being here. Though there is something that makes me a bit annoyed, but that hasn’t anything to do with the animals themselves; but with their living situation. About a year ago, the municipality cut all the trees, and now there are no trees left. A part of the area is just muddy, and this is always in especially autumns and winters. I don’t know why it bothers me, but it bothers me. Give them some proper place, not this muddy, open space without trees. They have an old, wooden building where they can go for shelter. They are fed regularly, and people from the neighbourhood take care of them too; they watch their health and the animals recognize people; when I walk towards them with some apples or bread or whatever vegetable leftovers, they walk towards me before I’m even there.

I just wonder what the ideas and visions about this are. Probably I’m the only one, or at least one of the very less, who asks all these questions about this, but you won’t get real answers. Or the answer “they were already there and there’s no money for that available’ should be satisfying. But what kind of answers are that? Because it was already there, means that we should not question?

In the rain, I walked by. The deers and goats were inside the shelter. And there was one chicken in the rain. A bright, clean white chicken. The star of the pouring rain. I stopped for a minute, stood behind the fence, and for a little while, I felt the prisoner. The chicken looked  at me, probably if I had anything nice to snatch from me, but I didn’t have anything.

The white chicken seemed happy, strolling along through the mud and the rain.

And I was the one who was not fenced, but felt prisoned.


One thought on “The chicken in the mud

  1. Animals are content at being themselves; their very own nature. You are correct, we are the ones held prisoners by none other than ourseleves.

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