Three Hens

(Based on real life examples)

There once was a small flock of hens.  One of these hens spent an inordinate amount of time each day finding her way out of her flock’s enclosure to carry on an affair with a rooster a couple of backyards over.  Another of these hens was, to the extent you could say it of a hen, lucidly and ethereally rational.  The hen seemed to spend a great deal of time considering everything around her with a skeptical eye, and when the poultry routines were interrupted would act as if it were beneath her to notice.  The last hen had something like dash or elan.  She would strut right up to dogs, give them the stare, and then fly into their faces.

A turtle lived in their backyard with them.  Sometimes they would perch on his back.

One day all three of them were perched there.  “You are all so distinctive,” said the turtle.  “What is the reason?”

The first hen said, “I’m committed to my heritage and living it out to the fullest.”  “Me too,” said the second.  “Me too,” said the third.

In chorus, they all cackled, “We’re french hens!”

Moral:  identity and heritage is not a straitjacket.