Dodo Eggs

In pre-historic times, the chicken was not the humble, witless bird it is now. It stood an imposing twelve feet tall with a massive, razor sharp beak. As it ran, its hook-like talons tore the earth away in knotted clumps. It was too large to fly but with strength that rivaled the most powerful dinosaurs, it could leap and glide for brief periods. The pre-historic chicken would use this ability to give it a final bust of speed to swoop upon its prey. The chicken was feared as the mightiest of predators.

The only creature that kept the chicken’s population in check was its traditional enemy the fearsome Tyrannosaurs Rex.

Men and beasts alike would huddle on the edge of sight to behold these titans dual. The power and ferociousness of the Tyrannosaurs Rex was singular. Rows of razor sharp teeth collapsing together with earth bending strength meant death for the feathered warriors if they were too slow or unwary. However, the keen intellect of the chicken allowed it to attack in small teams striking the lizard’s backside then darting away.

Chicken society even rose to the point of a structured hierarchy! And the mightiest amongst them was named Clak Cluk. Under the stern, shadow casting beak of Clak Cluk, chicken society even verged on a code of laws almost a hundred years before man.

One bright spring, Clak Cluk’s wife laid an egg after many years of infertility. To celebrate, Clak Cluk proclaimed, “Let the hunting parties (cluck, cluck) disperse, and bring back twelve mastodons (cluck, cluck) for my feast of happiness!”

With preparations completed, the pre-historic chicken world was tense with anticipation for the new prince’s birth. Finally, the egg shook and the miracle occurred! The heir to Clak Cluk’s throne burst forth to claim his birthright!

Instead of clucks of joy, beaks were snapped shut in amazement and shock. The prince was grossly undersized! It was also immediately apparent that the prince was also lacking in the warrior instinct so valued amongst chicken kind. It seemed the only thing he wanted to do was peck and poop!

Despite Clak Cluck’s obvious disappointment and embarrassment, he announced him the heir, “I give you Clucky! (cluck, cluck) He is the Crown Prince of the Chicken Tribes! Until he grows and develops (cluck, cluck) into the warrior he will someday become, I charge all of you to protect him and train him (cluck, cluck). No matter where he may stray (cluck) he must be protected! Do this on behalf of him now(cluck, ba-gock), and he will do mighty things for you in the future! Now, let the feast begin!”

As time edged along, it became plain to see that Clucky was not growing as he should. Not only that, but intelligence was hardly detectable. The greatest chicken instructors did their best with Clucky, yet all they could teach him were better ways to peck and poop.

One day Cluky was pecking and pooping with his constant contingent of Clak Cluk’s finest chicken warriors. A fox was hunting nearby, and observed the Crown Prince pecking and pooping.

Hungry from days of unsuccessful hunting the fox made a poor decision. He tried to scamper into the clearing, snatch the prince by the throat, and escape. The fox braced then sprung into the opening. The guards let out a mighty cluck, and every one of them fell upon the foolish fox.

This commotion was enough to frighten Clucky, and send him running. With wings flapping and with great clucking, he ran into the open pasture. Chickens avoided the wide-open spaces for they were the hunting ground of the Tyrannosaurs Rex.

It did not take the chicken warriors long to track their prince. A messenger was sent back to the main camp to retrieve assistance. When the chickens barged into the meadow, their combs became stiff with fear. Clucky near death at the hands of a wandering Tyrannosaurs Rex!

The ground shook as the chicken tribe ran into the field to protect their crown prince and other hungry Tyrannosaurs Rexs entered the fray. Additional Jurassic predators who where hungry for a taste of Clucky’s tender meat appeared and came for the unsuspecting bird.

Clak Cluk and the other chickens fought valiantly but with Clucky continually running between the Tyrannosaurus’s legs and through the jaws of other foes, the victory was out of wing’s reach.

As the final pre-historic chickens began to fall into the grips of death, a mortally wounded chicken snatched the prince in mid poop, and raced away from the battlefield. The strength of this chicken began to fail as he searched frantically for someone who could be trusted with the prince.

Then he recognized a human emerging from an outhouse. (A recent human invention which propelled him into the age of technology.) The valiant chicken raced towards the human, laid Cluky before him, and breathed his last.

The man’s name was Kur-nal. He looked down at the still pecking prince in wonder. “Boy, you sure look tender. I’ll bet I could fit at least eleven herbs and spices on that back of yours.

Hmmm, I wonder what would happen if I bred you with a mean tempered canary?”

Thus, we have the modern chicken. Fallen from its once lofty place, the modern chicken is but a shadow of its former form. Roosters gained a colorful plume and mean temperament from the canary. The remainder is all Cluky.

Do not mourn over the outcome of this tale for it does have a happy ending. Our friend the Kur-nal died a very wealthy man.

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