When I was a girl I spent all my days tendin' to tha chicken coops.
We had six hens and two roosters, who're m' only company, we lived forty million miles from the nearest town, ya see.
The hens were my favorite bunch. Sweet as honey and docile 'nuff to peck seeds at m' feet. The mean old roosters only clawed at my ankles, little devils.
As one might think we ate the hens eggs nearly every morn. Good proteins, pa would say.
But I was tired of eating them once I discovered what they really were thanks to m' brother. So I nabbed one from Maria, our oldest hen, who never really laid 'em like she used-ta.
I cared for that egg better than I'd cared for anything in my life, but I still tended to the cows and horses mind ya! Kept it warm and made it it's own nook in m' sheets.
Then 'bout four weeks later, the babe hatched.
I had expected a fluffy yellow thing, one that might think I was her mama maybe, if I was lucky.
Well, she was fluffy and yellow 'long her middle, her tail though, 'aint had no feathers. A long scaly thing ith goose-pimples and spines came from her behind.
Itty bitty wings on her body, but they didn't bare the right shape, not at all. These wings looked comparable to the sail of a boat almost, like a kinda blind maybe. I can't explain it.
Despite my horror there, I kept the thing warm in a frayed tea towel I swiped. I ain't had the slightest clue what just came onta this earth.
When I tried to bring her outside, we got caught by our dog Quincey, poor old Quincey. I had no idea what was happenin' as he seemed to freeze like the pond in winter and turned grayer than a sickly calf.
And well, the rest is history. The babe doesnt turn me to stone, I am an old woman now, she keeps me safe enough to brew my potions in peace.