To Acme Security Associates:

This may not be the neatest letter you have ever read.  The reason for that shall become clear later.  For now, please excuse the chicken-scratching.

I am writing to complain about your company's security services.  Perhaps it will be best if I begin at the beginning.  When I was a young chick, my family and friends used to wander at will among the fields and hills, pecking for our daily sustenance.  It was a free but precarious existence.  Food was not always plentiful, but predators were.  Foxes, weasels, hawks, and other beasts exacted a terrible toll.  So, when your company presented us with a proposal to improve our security, we were more than ready to listen.

This was the proposal:  You provide us with a guard dog, and we provide you with a percentage of our eggs.  We understood that we would have to give up some freedom to get some safety.  We made the deal and felt a lot safer.  This worked pretty well for awhile.  The dog ran off a lot of the fox-class predators.  Unfortunately, he wasn't too good with hawks.  Also, he sometimes harassed the chickens himself, and even picked off an occasional pullet.  We complained to you.  "Well," you said, "if you want more security, you're going to have to give up some of your freedom."

So, here was your next proposal.  All of us would move to a fenced enclosure.  This would keep out the land predators.  We would also be provided with coops, which would afford some protection from predation from the air.  In return, we would turn the entire egg crop over to you.  There was some debate about this among the flock, but we really couldn't live with all the danger and uncertainty.  So, we made the deal.  It worked out splendidly for quite some time.  We barely noticed the loss of privileges and felt very safe.  Then an awful thing happened.  Perhaps it was complacence.  Maybe the foxes really are as clever as folks say.  In any case, a bunch of dastardly foxes dug their way under the fence in the night and made off with dozens of chickens.  We complained to you.  "Well," you said, "we can provide more security, but you'll have to give up some more freedom."

This time, there was little resistance from the flock.  The attack had been too horrible.  So, we agreed without even reading the proposal.  "We authorize whatever actions you deem necessary," we said.  You said you had an impeccable solution.  That leads us to the current situation, which I must admit eliminates all threat of predation.  But there are just a couple of small points I would like to discuss.  As I write, I am confined in a space about the size of a shoebox.  My beak has been removed, so now I know what you meant by "impeccable."  There is a tube down my throat, through which some glop is being pumped.  Someone claimed it was food.  Every so often, someone comes around to see if I'm "plump enough yet."

I just have one question:  Is it too late to go back to the fields and hills?

Sincerely yours,
 

Henrietta T. Hen