Based on a true story
She was more than half my size: a red hen, best friend to my three year old self. She would not let anyone come near, save me. When the dog was carefully locked in the bedroom and my mother out running errands, the hen would incubate my lap as I told her all about my morning at nursery school. She was an excellent listener, clucking at just the right moments to let me know that she understood the situation with the teacher and the liquorice.
We moved to the big city. She was left behind. As the maid’s Christmas lunch.