Magda Trzaski



Rusty, my house rooster, has gone with Henny Penny to the chicken shack. It was a sad day when they left the house, but at least now, when I want to sleep in or have an afternoon snooze, I don’t have a rooster trying to break all the wine glasses with the power of his voice. Henny is now ruling the rest of the hens. She just walked in and assumed she was at the peak of the pecking order and no one disputed her claim. And sad as I am that Rusty is way the heck out in the poopified shed, I am certain he doesn’t miss me. Or if he does, he barely notices. You see, Rusty now has a harem to service. For my little Rusty, every day is now hump day.

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