The Day Everything Changed Part-2

One evening, I came home to an eerily silent backyard. Ginger, the queen of chaos, was nowhere to be seen. I called her name, shook her favorite bag of corn, even checked under the garden furniture. Nothing. Panic set in. I started roaming the streets, calling out, “Ginger! Ginger!” like a madman. People gave me strange looks, but I didn’t care. She wasn’t just a chicken anymore—she was family. Hours turned into a sleepless night. I imagined the worst: had she been hit by a car? Kidnapped by a hawk? Or, God forbid, served as someone’s dinner? The next morning, I found her. She was huddled in a corner of the yard, injured and trembling. Her wing was bent awkwardly, and she looked up at me with sad, glassy eyes. My heart shattered. I scooped her up and rushed to the vet, tears streaming down my face. The receptionist raised an eyebrow. “It’s… a chicken?” “She’s not just a chicken,” I snapped. “She’s Ginger.”.