All humans are murderers

... or the "The Sad Tale of Chicken Little"

I recently came across this heart-rending tale and had to share it with my hordes of avid readers. This pitiful note was found scrawled on the underside of hut No. 5 at Grangefield chicken farm, Eurasia (names have been changed to protect the innocent):

"I hate all humans.

I didn't use to. Don't get me wrong - I wasn't hatched into the world with this bitterness and hatred in me. I've been made that way.

Okay. Let's start at the beginning.

Once, when I was young and carefree, I'd love my time chirping and pecking along with my lovely, fluffy brothers and sisters. We'd have such fun playing around in the dirt. Getting excited at feeding time; hiding from mum when she turned away from us; teasing the little piglets next door; hiding under the hut then jumping out when the old dog went by, ...

Oh I recall those days so fondly. Lovely, happy, precious, innocent moments. I never really noticed that sad, worried, frightened look in my mother's eye. I never considered where this was all leading to.

But then things started to change. I think ... yes, it was quite a wet day ... the five of us had just been nestled together trying to stay dry when there was a terrible commotion two huts down. Shrieks of terror. 'Take me! Take me!' I thought I heard distinctly among the sound of the raindrops and the squawks of fear. 'Take me...'

That was the first day. From then on my world descended into carnage. Madness. Those I thought my friends amongst the humans (the nice woman who brought the feed) were involved, it was clear. The huts started to empty. Hushed words were passed between us. Tales of capture, murder, and terrible unspeakable things. "They eat us!" I heard once. I shudder to think of it. 

Now, we're the last hut unaffected. Well, that was until today. When my sisters were with me. Now there's just me. My mother ... she cannot speak. Her eyes...

So now I know the true nature of humans. These killers. These hateful, awful creatures. We need to unite against them. Make sure future generations know our fate, so they can guard against these dreadful beings. I hope you, my brethren, are able to find my words, and know the face of the enemy."

And that was all we found. I'm not sure what happened to 'Little'; only that when we arrived at the farm to liberate it, we found no living birds in that place. It's with a heavy heart that I realise we were one, maybe two, days late to save the last of the farmstead. She will have died hating us all. Never knowing that her view of humanity was limited to those few she encountered, and coloured by their behaviours, not knowing this was the merest fraction of humanity.