Anne startled me out of bed just before sunrise this morning, yelling “the fox is after the rooster.” Amazingly, the rooster escaped by running down the hill and into the pond. The first thing I saw was Rogue (the rooster) standing in six inches of water at the edge of the pond with the fox about five feet away, pondering the situation. On further consideration, the rooster decided he was still too close for comfort, and swam across to the island. Who knew that chickens could swim? It’s a distance of about 40 feet, and I don’t know if he could have made it much further. The fox stared at him some more, tested the water, thought better of it, ran around to the other side of the pond to confirm that Rogue was really on an island, and disappeared.

A half hour later, we paddled across to see if the rooster was still alive. There he was, huddled in the brush, completely unharmed. We paddled back and, as soon as we landed, he flew back after us. I guess he forgot he could fly when the fox came after him. But who’s to judge? He survived.

Here’s Anne’s version of the exciting tale, in poetic verse:

O the fox went out on a sunny morning

And attacked the poor rooster without any warning

Said “the fawns are too big and the bunnies all hid

And I’m in the mood for chicken-0″ [repeat if you feel like singing]

Well the rooster screamed and ran like hell

Across the lawn he scurried pell mell

Said “I forgot to fly but I don’t wanna die

So I guess I’ll swim the pond-0″

Then the fox was stumped as he stood in the weeds

He couldn’t believe what he just see’d

Wasn’t duck nor goose nor a bloomin’ grebe

But a chicken a’swimming in the pond-o

On the island the rooster gave a lusty shout

To that chicken of a fox who just ran about

Fox said “I ain’t beaver, otter or old raccoon

And I won’t swim that pond-o.”

We paddled to the island in the big canoe

To see if there was anything we could do

Rooster said “I’m just fine but I think this time

I’ll fly back over that pond-o.”