One brand new day, a brand new hen arrived on the farm and the whole hen house was in a flap.
Chicks giggled, hens squawked, Dot blushed from her toes to the tip-top of her comb.
“What’s going on in here?” asked the short sighted rooster.
“Quack!” said Dot.
“Oh dear, oh dear!” squawked Rooster, “No ducks in the hen house please. Go back to the pond with the other ducks.”
Rooster bundled her out of the door.
“I guess I could be a duck,” thought Dot.
The ducks were heading off for their morning swim.
Waddle-waddle, slip, slide, splash.
Dot followed them.
Wiggle-waggle, slip, slide, splash, glug.
“You can’t swim,” said the ducks as they pushed Dot onto the bank, “you can’t be a duck. Crows can’t swim. Go to the paddock with the other crows.”
“I might be a crow,” thought Dot.
The crows were just beginning their choir practise.
Caw-caw, caw-caw-caw, caaaw-caaaw, ca-aw.
Dot cleared her throat.
“You can’t sing,” said the crows, “you can’t be a crow. You look a bit like a pigeon. You should head over to the farmhouse.”
“That must be it,” thought Dot.
The pigeons were practising their plies.
Up, down, up, down, up, down, up.
Dot stretched her legs.
Up, down, up, stumble, trip, oomph.
“You lack grace dear,” said the pigeons, helping her up, “you can’t be a pigeon.”
“Then what am I?” Dot said, fluffing her feathers.
But night was coming and the pigeons had all flown off to their nests.
Dot trudged back to the hen house.
“What am I?” wondered Dot. A tear dripped off the end of her beak.
Her stomach growled…
Dot flew to her feet, “I forgot!”
She dashed into the hen house, leapt into her nest, crossed her eyes, held her breath and…
Laid one perfect brown egg.
“Woohoo! I quack like a duck but I lay eggs like a chicken,” crowd Dot.
“What are you then?” asked the chicks.
Dot looked out of the hen house door. The moon was rising high into the sky, big and bright and nothing like the stars around it.
She snuggled into her nest, “I’m just me.”