By Dreams and Adventures guest writer Jemima Pekin-Bantam
My name is Jemima Pekin-Bantam and I am a glamorous princess, living alongside two commoners.
We get on remarkably well however.
Florence is a sweet little thing although she has got rather big for her boots recently. I remember when she was a timid babe but now she sometimes forgets herself and thinks she’s top hen. As if!
Dorothy, or, as she prefers to be called, Dottie, was rather down in the dumps a month ago. She told me she felt ugly as she was losing her feathers. Of course I didn’t say to her, you’ll never look beautiful my dear, certainly not as wonderful as me.
To be honest, I too had the same issue of losing my feathers too. My human calls it moulting. Dear reader, I hope you never have to go through this nastiness. It left me so bereft of my beautiful white feathers, I even heard one of the other humans call me scruffy. I was left rather upset by that, let me tell you. Humans can be very careless with their words, especially to someone with such a pedigree as I.
I heard one of the humans was called ‘Hunter’. Well, that put me off him straightaway. I showed him what I thought when he had the cheek to lift me up. Does he not know who I am? He had to change his t-shirt afterwards. Hah! And then he approached me again another evening when I had gone to bed, with a big light thing shining in my face. I pecked his hand. Leave me alone to sleep, I told him.
When I told Dottie what hunters were, she shook herself in fear. Surely not, she said, and he seemed quite nice.
Don’t trust appearances, I warned her.
Florence wouldn’t have any of it. But then she sees the best in everyone. Our humans are lovely, she tells me.
She even says the two white loud hairy monsters with four legs aren’t too bad.
I find them highly sinister. They shout obscene abuse from a distance. They have a competition amongst themselves, who can shout and swear the loudest. Thankfully they are banned from coming anywhere near us.
Nasty creatures. Common of course.
My two chums tell me I am too suspicious. But when one is born a princess and having to mix with the commoners, one has to always keep in mind one’s pedigree. My mother told me a strange tale once. She insisted Dottie and Florence, as indeed the other girls I lived alongside as a youngster, were the same breed as I.
Impossible, I told her.
I tell the girls we should go to bed early during winter. Early to bed, early to rise makes us hens healthy and wise, I proclaim to them. It can be hard sometimes though to get a word in between Dottie’s complaining about the hotel service (it’s not quite five star it has to be said) and Florence’s chattering.
Goodnight Dottie, Goodnight Jemima…
Night Florence, night Dot, I sleepily respond from my dizzy heights (as top hen, I should be the highest) on top of the straw box.
Sometimes she tells us stories before we go to sleep.
Shut up, I tell her.
But did you hear the one about the big red human with a furry face flying through the sky with deer?
What’s a deer? I mumble, drifting off to sleep.
To be fair, the Hunter did call me wise. And my personal human, the one who provides the board and lodging, thinks me quiet, calm and confident. They know me well. And if someone gives you the delicacy of mealworms, which both those humans have done, well, they can’t be so bad really.
Of course, I expect five star treatment but this establishment isn’t so bad really. And my roommates may not have high breeding as I but actually, I rather like them.
My human tells me about Christmas, a lot I don’t listen to. Like Florence she rambles in her speech, talking nonsense. But I pick up the word present. Yes, I would like this Santa human to give us girls presents.
Mealworms please. Lots and lots of juicy worms.
Merry Christmas dear readers, may your days be full of tasty worms and warming corn.