Does there always have to be a happy ending?

The stories of the goats some time ago were all true.  Thus far it has a happy ending.  Having them settled, but being down two of the initial chooks we got in winter, we remembered that the guy who sold us the goats, also offered us chooks.  Going back to the place we got runaway goats from, how stupid can we be, you can anticipate trouble – right?!

‘Do you want some young or older ones?’  ‘We’ll take a couple of young ones’ thanks.’  The young ones were just past being cute chickens, a few months off laying.  As we were about to find out they were quite unused to human contact and capable of immense speed over short distances.  We took two, but just like with the goats, we weren’t ready to house them.  We created a temporary home for them which we thought was secure, but quickly one got out and hid herself under the raspberry bushes.  Later the other one got out and so we had two, flighty, runaway birds in the thicket of raspberries.  We would leave food for them which they would gratefully eat, but we couldn’t get close enough to catch them.  So, Miranda shooed them to one end of the berries, while I waited with the fishing net.  In a flurry, down came the net and I thought I had them both.  Sadly, I had only only one which went into a cat-cage – she wasn’t getting out of there!  The thought was that the other would stay close and eventually we’d get her too.  Sadly no.   After a day or so the runaway chook disappeared.  Hopefully she made it to some other free-range hens nearby.  We couldn’t leave the one we still had constrained in the cat-box forever, so we tried introducing her to the big hens – bad move! We had to keep them in one place and she had roaming rights in the berry garden.  Even though she could fly out of it, now she knew we’d be along to feed her morning and night, she wasn’t going far. 

Then, one day we saw her out in the paddock with the animals.  Dinner time: picture a little hen dodging goat, pig and sheep hooves; trying to get some of the food they were eating.  At night, she decided to sleep in with the animals.  Even though its called a “pigsty” – 2 sheep, 2 goats and Percy the pig slept in it.  Now also one little hen.  The picture was indeed very cute for a few days.  Little hen believed she was every-bit an equal of these much bigger mammals.

So, does there always have to be a happy ending? Tolkien, Grisham, Picoult, the Bible, what’s with our infatuation with happy endings?

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