Super Chick

Our Banty rooster had no name. We called him "Super Chick". No predator could catch him, He was just far too quick. When he was newly from his shell, Still in his mother's nest, A sneak attacker killed his mom And carried off the rest. We didn't know this little one Had managed to survive Until we found him with the flock Amazingly alive. We watched for him each time we fed And he was alway there, Holding his own against the odds Without a mother's care. He grew into a handsome fowl, More beautful than most With iridescent feathers that Would make a peacock boast. The other roosters were picked off All singly, one by one, Until we decided raising Banty chickens wasn't fun. Super Chick was left to guard His little Banty harem. A neighbor's dog thought it would be Hilarious to scare them. Super knew that it was he Who must take the big dog's dare. He flew at the cur who fought back And left him lying there. Our little Banty is no more. We took his loss so hard That never again will we have Pretty Bantys in our yard. Written for Dane Ann's Contest Won 9th place