Hen House Fox and Toby on Alert
Hen house Fox …
The hen house was always a target
For the ol’ red fox from nearby woods.
Toby our dog always on alert,
Hoping to catch ol’ fox with the goods.
Country nights were so quiet and dark.
Dad and all of us were sleeping sound.
When from the back porch Toby yelled bark,
So loud it woke everyone around.
Dad hit the ground running, gun in hand,
To finally shoot that red fox dead.
Toby followed Dad to make his own stand.
They crept till the hen house was just ahead.
Dad knelt down quick by the hen house small door.
Flashlight flicked on, ready to see inside
Dad peeked in the opening to see more.
When that ol’ red fox came up behind.
Scared Toby yelped and bumped into Dad.
Dad jumped and shot a big hole in the floor
Hens went flying everywhere, scared bad,
When they heard the sound of the Colt 44.
Dad got a huge bump on his poor bald head
When he pulled out of the opening fast.
Fox took off running he had a good lead.
Dad sat there thinking he had breathed his last.
Toby could be heard way off in the woods
Howling and chasing that sly ol’ red Fox.
Dad went back to bed, ice pack on his head.
Tomorrow he would get some hen house locks.
~
This silly poem was inspired by childhood memories I have when we lived on a small farm. Of course it is embellished a little to make a fairly decent poem. We had a pig named Chug-Chug (because he was huge and “chug- chug” was the snorting sound he made when he came running for his food), four goats named Billy, Nanny and the kids, two geese, and Dad’s prize chickens. We also had a German Shepherd named Toby.
We lived close to a wooded area that had a swamp in it. There was a huge dogwood tree in a clearing just before the trail to the swamp. During the day, us kids gathered under that tree to make bows and arrows from branches and string. With Toby along we would then hike into the swamp and woods, looking for that red fox. We never found him or his lair, but we sure had great times on our hunting expeditions.
© Copyright 2016 All Rights Reserved Phyllis Doyle Burns
~ ~ ~ ~
I have always liked to write.It is important to me that writing comes from my heart and soul. When writing poetry, if I do not feel a spiritual connection to what I am writing on, I will discard it and go on to something I can connect with on a spiritual level. I live in the moment, I write from the past or beyond the veil. When writing fiction I go with whatever inspires me at the moment - it could be funny, sorrowful, romantic or sometimes done with the use of colloquial language from mountain folk or other cultural regions.
I began writing content online in 2007, starting with BellaOnline - A Voice For Women, where I was the Native American Editor, Folklore & Mythology Editor, and the Appalachian Editor. I also wrote articles forThe Examiner, Daily Two Cents, and Yahoo. I am currently an author on HubPages.
Most of what I write takes a lot of research and I love it. Even if it is a fictional story, I will research for accuracy in whatever it takes to make my characters, their era, their location, etc. become realistic to the reader.
I hope you enjoy my works. Thank you for visiting.
- Ode to Voices in Desert Sands - August 14, 2023
- My Secluded Mountain Forest Nook - July 24, 2023
- My Cozy Log Cabin in the Woods - July 22, 2023
This was a hilarious poem, Phyllis. I loved it.
Ah! So happy you like it and found it so funny, John. Thanks. That place we lived was the best ever for growing up. We have such fond memories of our little farm.
Catching foxes not so easy, and they just love chicken. A great memory and hilarious moment of misadventure, trying to catch that wily old fox. Well penned and lots of fun. Thanks Phyllis.
You are welcome, Tony. Glad you enjoyed it. Take care.
A fun read Phyllis, sounds like you have a bank of childhood memories to draw on for inspiration. I always enjoyed hearing my grandmother tell stories of her life on the farm with 10 siblings. Enjoyed this! 🙂
Best,
Mel
Thanks, Mel. So glad you enjoyed it. Yes, my childhood left me with a treasure house of great stories. My Dad was a storyteller and he also told us stories of his childhood. So, that is his legacy to me – a wealth of memories to weave into stories. Thanks again, Mel. Take care.
I loved this poem Phyllis and I also grew up spending much of my time on my grandparents farm so can also relate. Thankyou for sharing with us.
Thank you, Eddy. I loved my childhood on the farm. So glad you like the poem and can relate.
Your poetry will be an excellent addition to a collection. This piece in particular. One day this would make a lovely illustrated book. Jamie
Hi Jamie. I did have this as part of my collection for the poetry book, but changed my mind. I have other plans for this one. Thank you for reading and commenting.