Chickens do not celebrate Christmas

I once read about the grouping of stars that we call the "Big Dipper". Throughout history this grouping of stars has been recognized throughout Eastern Asia, India, and England to the Americas. It has taken on many names such as the plough, the ladle, a cart, and sometimes it has been recognized as a bear or the home to the "immortals". This grouping of stars has been shaped and defined by culture and imagination.
It's all a matter of perception.
And to my mind's way of seeing things the chickens appeared quite celebratory on Christmas morning. My imagination perhaps. I know that I was anticipating Gaia Girls arrival and that I had a very sick chicken sitting in my kitchen. But it truly did not seem as though I were projecting. They looked like they were going to break out into song! I thought that they might miss the absent hen now being nursed in the chicken hospital but they went on without skipping a beat.
A little while after Gaia Girl made her triumphant return to waiting cats and a small Christmas gift, she tended the poor girl and gave her a thorough examination.
After the regretful and unceremonious cull an autopsy was performed to see why this hen suffered in spite of being well tended to and hospitalized. Located deep within the gizzard she found this weighty brass object lodged and obstructing the passage of any digestion of food. I would estimate the weight to stand between ten and fifteen grams and we are puzzled by the fact that she was even able to swallow it!
We are so glad that it wasn't something more or something that could spread through the flock killing them one by one. Our crew of the original fifteen now stands at thirteen: a true baker's dozen. And perhaps that is why they were all in such rare form. A stay of execution? More food for the remaining brood? Or was it Gaia Girl's return?
I do not know. But I know that it was Christmas; and it was celebrated.