25 July 2012
I think we've got a problem
And no it's not next door's cat;
You my little chickadees
Are getting increasingly fat.
I ventured out to the henhouse
To collect your little jewels
Only to find your fluffy behinds
Had squashed one egg in with the poo!
I'm putting you on a diet
My little feathered friends,
I don't like eggs scrambled before they are picked,
It's only a means to an end.
I'm halving your food rations
And taking you all out on walks.
No ifs, no buts, no complaints
And definitely no mutinous squawks.
It'll all turn out nicely,
You're for laying, not cooking hens
And then once you've slimmed down a bit
We can resume normal service again.
Slim Down For Summer • Opuss № I