Fowl Play

Further Info

This story was made at a five-day community based digital storytelling workshop led by Dani Landau, Clodagh Miskelly, Penny Evans and Carolyn Hassan. Participants were members of Knowle West community groups.

The course took place at Knowle West Media Centre during June 2005 and was supported by Bristol’s Museums, Galleries & Archives.

Transcript

One day our chickens got out. I worried our dogs would hurt them. I went up the garden, in the rain, in my pyjamas and wellies.

My son shut the dogs indoors, and I tried to get the chickens back into their run. One chicken wouldn’t go in. I got cross.

I tried to bribe her in with corn: “Come on chickie…” I hoisted up my dressing gown from where it was trailing in the mire and waved a stick at her. I shouted. I called her names. “Go in, you stupid chicken!”

My son giggled. I stopped dead. What on earth was I doing? The neighbours would think I was mad! I stopped and went back indoors with as much dignity as I could muster. “I’ll put her back later.” I finished my breakfast and saw my son off to school, a coat over my damp pyjamas. “See you later!” Then I got dressed and washed my face.

I walked back up the garden and looked at Chickie. I opened the henhouse door; she went straight in. What a wake-up call that was - one exercise call that I wouldn’t want to repeat in a hurry, and all before breakfast!

Credits

All media not otherwise credited created by the story author, or permission obtained, used under copyright licence.