Pity the chicken! Well, in not so many words, that’s how it is when translated to English 🙂
Those were the words I heard uttered by my son this morning while I was preparing to go to work. He was already outside, in the yard, playing when he noticed one of our chickens:
I heard his footsteps coming towards me and ushered me to where the chicken was. He had this serious concern on his face, seemingly unable to understand why a chicken was lying there wounded. Let’s take the chicken to the hospital, he said, quick.
That’s my little boy, nurturing a soft spot in his heart for animals.