"Bak bak bak bak" The chickens were at it again, having their daily meeting, plotting their escape. Or at least the ringleader, Bubba, was squawking about equality and the same amount of feed per animal. The story was always the same. How they should work for the betterment of the flock, putting the flocks needs before anything else. Of course, he never mentioned how he ate first, how he was the first to get water, how he was always given deferential treatment. Even by the stupid human guardians. He had preached equality and then lived the life of a dictator.
"Stupid chickens." Phil thought, and then rolled over and looked at the pool. The fish were laying at the bottom, enjoying the cool waters in the shade of the artificial lily-pads. Phil sighed deeply, his chest rising and falling noticeably, "Lucky fish" he thought. Got to swim all day, and didn't have to listen to this stupid barnyard rhetoric. "What I wouldn't give to roam free again," Phil mumbled aloud.
He had once known the freedom of life without a cage, without bars. He knew what it felt like to roam the green grass looking for that tasty plant to eat, watching out for predators. He had been in the prime of his life. Now he was a fat lazy bunny trapped in a cage for the amusement of children who could care less about him. Phil dreaded the afternoons when they came out to feed him. He hated it when they picked him up, mangling his fur, squeezing him tight against their smelly, fleshy, hairless bodies. Phil hated the human race. They were so alien to nature, destroying everything they touched, capturing anything unusual, distorting the natural order of life. And now he was trapped like a rabbit in a cage.
Phil chuckled wryly to himself, "What Irony." He longed for freedom.
The squawking was reaching a crescendo, Bubba, as Phil thought of him, was reaching the end of his torrent. Phil was glad, he wanted some sleep. The heat was unbearable, and this fur didn't help anything. On days like this, you wanted to find a deep dark hole, and wait out the heat, only going out in the evening to feed and drink, then you tried to sleep during the day. It was dangerous then, that was when the owls were out, but that was life. It was the life that Phil dreamed of, longed for, and was dying to achieve. Being cooped up in this cage was slowly draining the life from him. He just couldn't take anymore.
"Quack, quack, quack, quack". Now the ducks were chiming in their fare share. "Fuck!" Phil thought. Now this was going to get ugly. The stupid ducks never knew how to shut up and Bubba had all the chick-e-dees all riled up. There was going to be a fight.
Phil watched the proceedings for a while, and then rolled over. One of the good things about being stuck living in the city, he could sleep through anything. As he was dozing off, Phil started once again dreaming of the life that got left behind. Floating through the clouds of sleep, Phil wondered about the friends and family he had left behind. He wondered if she was still waiting for him. He wondered what his kids looked like. He wondered if he would ever see them again?
As he faded off, the wind started to pick up. It felt good on his skin, and helped him to go to sleep. He didn't see the storm moving in.
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