Grace for Chickens

In the winter, I often bring warm water to the chickens. Kitty, the unofficial queen of the coop, always gets to the water first, and as is her custom, pecks authoritatively at the head of anyone who tries to approach. Pippa, the floppy-combed leghorn, runs in circles making forlorn clucking sounds. The others simply stand at a safe distance, waiting. Kitty will dip her narrow beak into the…