Hold*My*Tail!

 

          Emmy was getting to be a big girl.  She was a month more than two years old. She was walking well, of course, and talking pretty competently for a two year old. Every child is slightly different in this regard.  Some walk well first, some talk even before walking is easy for them. Emmy was a bit of a talker.
          One summer morning, she woke before everyone else. Even Billy and Honda slept on. The house was silent except for the ticking of the kitchen clock. She sat up in her little bed next to her parents bed, then put her feet on the floor. Neither Beth nor Jessie moved.
          She wondered what the chickens were doing, whether they were awake also. So, she padded out into the front room and opened the door to the outside world. She carefully shut the door behind herself. She was not one bit afraid. “Happy,” she whispered and stepped carefully down off the porch which only had two steps after all.
          The chickens were awake. They were making their querulous morning chatterings, scratching around, checking for missed bugs or feed. Emmy found this fascinating, so she went right to the little gate which was only fastened by a simple hook. She unhooked the gate and went inside the chicken run to get closer to the hens. It was a reach for her, but she did it. The six variously colored hens were not afraid of her, but they didn't allow her to hug them, as she wished to either.
          So, she followed them around while they avoided her embraces. Finally, the head hen noticed that the gate was opened. She probably also noticed that no adult, not even that dog was out there to shoo her back in. Therefore, she stepped delicately, picking one foot up into her feathers then down slowly, then the other foot the same, right outside of the fence. She glanced right and left, she pecked at the ground, she made encouraging chicken noises. The other five hens followed her out, all the while being pursued by Emmy.

The great escape, with a couple extras!

          Of course, these hens weren’t going to head to town or the desert, but Emmy didn’t know that, and she was a bit concerned now that they were out. She wondered if she could catch them and bring them back.
          It was still all quiet in the house. “Mama,” said Emmy, but she wasn’t afraid.
          The boss hen, Matilda, was braver than the others. Hearing the little creek running nearby, down a little incline, she was intrigued. She wandered and picked and pecked her way down the hill. Emmy followed.
          Matilda was pleased to see all of that sparkling water. Running water is more delicious than a pan of water sitting in a cage. She bustled right to the water’s edge and drank. Emmy was right behind her on somewhat unsteady legs, as the terrain was rocky and there were small bushy plants. Emmy squatted down, like babies do, and made her way down to the creek also. There was a tiny bit of a sandy edge like a sort of beach.
          She reached down and patted the surface of the running water with her flat palm. She splashed it around, laughing. She forgot about Matilda and the other hens.  She could see brightly colored small stones beneath the water. They beckoned. She saw a minnow dart upstream. Brilliant morning sunlight made entrancing sparkles on the water.
          She lost her footing.
          It didn’t look good.  The rocks in the creek were slippery and the movement of the water disturbed her equilibrium. Emmy fell. It was only about six inches deep, but it ran pretty fast, and she couldn’t stand up.
          Walking upstream in the very creek bed, towards Emmy, there came a powerful great desert colored puma.  Her golden eyes shone! Her mouth was open, panting. She snarled under her breath just a little. She was not fond of being wet after all!
          She made her way to the thrashing child in the water and pulled her up by the back of her nightgown with her mouth, as if Emmy were a kitten. When she got Emmy more or less on her feet, she said, “hold my tail!” She turned to make it easy, and Emmy grabbed her tail and hung on. “Now, follow me Emmy!” she said.
          Emmy hung on tight, shaking with the chill of the water, and the puma walked her out of the creek and up the bank and across the yard. Emmy hung on all the way to the porch of the little blue mobile home. “Now, you go in Emmy. Go to your mother.” And that is just what she did too. Like a good child, she shut the door behind herself also. She greeted sleepy Billy and Honda on the way to the bedroom. “Hi, Billy. Hi Honda, good dog! Hi!”
          Meanwhile, Matilda and the girls had decided to go home and were all back in their fenced area waiting for breakfast to be brought out to them.
          When Emmy got to Beth’s bedside, she lay her head on Beth’s bosom and said, “mama, I saw a big kitty!”
          Now, the child was cold and wet through, which Beth noticed immediately. She sat up in bed and said, “Jessie! She’s soaked! And she’s freezing cold! She must have gone outside and down to the creek! Oh, my dear Lord, we could have lost her! How in the world did she get back?
          “Oh Jessie, the days of leaving that door unlocked are over!” He looked with dark shocked eyes at his wife and his child. “Yes,” was all he said.
          There were tears, a quick bath, and dry clothes.  Then there was breakfast with thankful hearts.

Link to the whole story so far; They haven't taken my phone yet.docx