Random Thoughts

A story for grownups

... Interviews at The Nice Little Farm   

by Carol Nelson

"Well, here I am, at the Nice Little Farm in the country. Blue sky... sunshine.
I'm going to interview some of our animal friends about their lives."

"Ah! A cluster of clucking hens pecking about in the lush green grass. Excuse
me Miss Hen."

"Yes?"

"Could I ask your name, please?"

"Sylvia. Sylvia Farmsworth."

"I'd like to ask you a few questions about your life on the farm these days."
Ms. Hen is searching intently for bugs or tiny stones to help her digestion but
she cocks her head to look up with a tear rolling down her beak. I lower the
microphone and Sylvia clears her throat.

"Ahem.... You seem like a good person and I know you mean well, but wouldn't
you rather write about fashion?"

"No, seriously. Can you tell me how it is here on the farm? Are you brooding?
What's your coop like? How does it FEEL to be a chicken?"

The other hens gather around and all seem flustered. "Dear, the girls and I
don't want to talk about it. Do we girls." She walks away clucking softly to
herself through the yellow buttercups and the soft clover that bunnies like so
much.

"Oh, here's a cow. Let's see what she has to say about life on the farm today.
Hello. Could I have a word? Why the long face? What's your name?"

"Bossie."

"What?"

"That's my name, Bossie."

"Oh, pardon me." The other cows wander up, chewing their cuds and twitching
nervous tails. A bull meanders over, sun glinting off the ring in his nose.
He's giving Bossie the eye and the others all give him big cow eyes.

"Hello, Big guy, may I ask you for the truth about life here on the farm?

"The TRUTH! You can't handle the truth!" He sounds just like Jack Nicholson
in "A Few Good Men."

"I'm not doing very well. Maybe I should get the real dirt from an expert.
Let's go over behind the barn. Watch your step. There's a humongous mother pig
in a pen with a passel of little pink oinkers. One is awake.

"Hi there, little one. Aren't you cute. What's your name?"

"Jennifer."


"I bet you're really smart. Aren't you."

"Yep, I am. I am."

"I wonder if you can tell me... and my readers... what's life like here on the
farm?"

"Ooops...."

"Come on now, don't be shy."

"I can tell you a lot. Yes I can. Yes I can."


              WILL THE PIG SQUEAL?


"You were about to tell me about life here on the nice little farm."

"Welllllll, Lady, first of all this is not a farm. No, no, no. It's a movie
set. And, and, and... that is not grass, it's astro turf. It is, it is."

"Are you pulling my leg?"

"Nooooo, but somebody is."

"All of us are actors. Yes we are. Bossie does ads for Ben and Jerry's. The
bull works on Wall Street part time and I tried out for "Babe", the film, but I
didn't get the part. I wish... I wish I did, I'd be outa' here in a New York
minute!

"But why?"

"I'm sorry to tell you this, lady, but farming has changed. Chickens, cows,
turkeys and piggies, like me, live in factory farms... really, really HUGE
buildings with thousands of animals and no space to move. They cut off our
tails and our teeth, or our beaks. I wish you would find out about it lady.  
Maybe you could help us.  

Please?"




August 5, 2011


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