Tippy, Chapter Ten

By Jim Thompson
HCP columnist

Continued from last week.

I hardly slept that night, I was so excited.

When the human let us out the next morning, I ran straight for the tree. The limb had not moved, but the chicken was sitting on it looking worn out and sweating profusely. I didn’t know chickens could sweat. I was very disappointed.

“I tried all night, but I just don’t weigh enough,” she said.

I started crying.  She said, “Don’t cry. I have a backup plan. You come out in the morning, just the same way.”

“OK.”

I couldn’t get as excited as I did the day before.  

However, along about midnight, I heard a rat-a-tat-tat sounding. Woodpeckers! The chicken had gotten some woodpeckers to help her.

I came out in the morning. The limb still wasn’t down, but the chicken was there, “I got the woodpeckers to help up close to the tree to weaken the branch. It wasn’t enough. They are going to get more of their family to get you out tonight.”

“You better. I hear the veterinarian is coming tomorrow, and you know what that means.”

“Don’t worry," the chicken said. "Have I let you down yet?”  

I said, “no” but thought, you haven’t let the limb down, either.

Along about midnight, the loudest racket you ever heard started up. Good thing no humans stayed at the shelter at night.  

Later, the chicken told me there had been close to a dozen woodpeckers working in two shifts with rest breaks in between.

I came out this third morning, and the limb was down!

I ran up the limb and fell over the other side of the fence. It knocked the wind out of me for a minute, but then I was good.

“Come on! We don’t have a minute to waste!” the chicken shouted.

Across a small creek there was a large corn field, ready to pick, but they hadn’t started working on it yet.  

The plan we had agreed upon was that I would go to the middle of that field and hide out for the rest of the daylight hours and then we would move at night.

To be continued.

Jim Thompson, formerly of Marshall, is a graduate of Hillsboro High School and the University of Cincinnati. He resides in Duluth, Ga. and is a columnist for The Highland County Press.