The one legged chicken is named Trixie.
That fact is funny enough in itself. The actual bird is a subject of immense hilarity. It hops along on one scrawny claw, it’s other leg stub flapping uselessly as if the departed leg was still joined with it. Apparently ‘Trixie’ is the generally accepted name, ‘Mary’ being the second choice.
When I first met Trixie, she was hopping into the banda where I was teaching, squawking horribly. She managed to get stuck under the cabinet as we tried to chase her out, and had to be pulled out. We set her free and laughed until we cried at her funny little hops. I leaned against the doorframe, cracking up entirely at the poor crippled bird.
She went something like this: Hop. Squawk. Fall over. Scramble to feet- or rather, foot. Hop-hop. Flip out for no apparent reason and go hopping across the yard. Fall flat on beak.
A girl walked out of a nearby banda and stared at me in shock as I chuckled helplessly. She looked at the chicken and said to me in utter disgust, “See how it suffers.”
Now, I’m not really sure how it could be in much torment. It just hops around and occasionally goes berserk, just like the other chickens. My laughter ceased, however, when I noticed that she was serious. The girl looked up at me, indignantly furious. “You can really see how God punishes.”
I gave it up after that and went back to class. That poor chicken, to be under such judgement.