Meredith's Terrible, Awful, No Good Day

"Squack!" says Meredith loudly in the back yard. My ears perk up. As I start to stand to go to the deck door, Meredith screams, "Squack!!!!! Bwaaaaack!!!!" She was screaming bloody murder. I throw open the deck door and start running barefoot down the steps. I see something gray and brown turn the corner of the house by the garage. It's the gray fox. I run across the grassy back yard. As I turn the corner, I can't see her. The gravel driveway hurts my tender feet. Ooooch, ouch I start to slow down. "Squack!" Meredith yells again. I see the fox at the near the end of the driveway. Meredith's calls for help speed me up. Everytime she cries I run a little faster. I am not used to running. I really didn't think I could run unless something was chasing me but Meredith's calls are inspiring. I yell, "Put down my chicken! Put it down!" "Squack" Meredith is still calling for help. As I run, my heart sinks to see big piles of orange feathers on the driveway. I run faster. I cut through the grass by the mailbox. "Squack!" Meredith calls, a little closer. As I get around the wooded part, I yell, "Put down the chicken." A car goes by on the road and I don't even look up. I am running. I step on something sharp. I come into the neighbor's yard and my new neighbor opens her front door and comes out with a little boy. The fox drops Meredith. Oh, Meredith, she's laying sprawled out on the grass, her orange wings extended and her legs crumpled beneath her. My neighbor asks, "What is it?" I explain, "This is my chicken, Meredith." I go to pick her up and Meredith gets up and walks slowly away. I don't want to chase her but I don't want her walking into the woods either. I guide her to a patch of shrubbery by my neighbor's pond. She sits down in the shrubs. I explain to the neighbor that the gray fox grabbed her. I bend over to pick up Meredith and she allows me to do that. She sits very still in my arms. I can see her tail. If you've ever purchased a whole chicken at the grocery store, you know what the tail looks like - sort of like a human nose. Meredith's tail is buck naked. She has a little blood on her hind quarter to the right of her tail. She has fox germs on her, the poor thing. I try to give her a reassuring hug yet avoid staining my shirt.  The little boy asks if this is a rooster. I say no, Meredith is a hen. The neighbor asks if we should shoot the fox. I say no, usually the chickens are safe in their coop. There is no need to shoot the fox.  We talk for a couple minutes.  I thank them for their help and take Meredith home. I have a some blood on my foot. I assumed it was chicken blood but it turns out I cut the top of my foot on a thorn or a branch or something sharp.  There are enough chicken feathers in their front yard for two whole chickens.  Meredith is totally still all the way home. I wonder if she is alive but she is holding her head up so she must be okay. I gently put her in the coop and she walks into the corner and sits down. I look around for Pamela. I hope the fox didn't double back and nab her. I see her sitting on the edge of the compost pile by the apple tree. Oddly, Pamela allows me to pick her up. Why is she so compliant all of a sudden?  Was she traumatized as well?  I walk her back and put her in the coop and tell her to take care of Meredith. I give both girls some fresh water. With the chickens safe, I go back in the house which is now full of mosquitoes because I have left the deck door open for ten minutes. Such drama and trauma - why did the fox go after Meredith? Of the two chickens, Pamela seems to be the more likely choice. She is smaller and more vulnerable. Why would an 8 to 10 pound fox choose the biggest chicken? Did the fox think the chickens were easy picking? Did the fox have a den full of kits to feed?  Or, did the fox (sing it with me) "Like big butts and I cannot lie."