If I had only not let my worry and anxiety get the better of me that day, my friends would still be here with me, she thought. Preoccupied with her own regrets, Chicken Little did not see that the previous patient had left the office and that she was the only one remaining before office hours were over.
“Ms. Little, the doctor will see you now,” the nurse announced.
As Chicken Little walked into the office, she was amazed at all of the diplomas, certificates and other awards that the doctor had nicely framed on the wall above his desk This guy must be a really good doctor - with all of these wonderful awards, she thought.
“Ms. Little, what brings you to see me today?” Dr. Drake asked as he turned around in his black leather, executive desk chair to greet the flustered hen.
“Mr. Drake, I have come to talk about this terrible guilt I have over the death of my friends,” she responded.
“Please have a seat and let us begin,” Dr. Drake continued.
As Chicken Little sat down on the couch, Dr. Drake began to ask questions about her life since the death of her friends and how she had coped up until this point with the stress of knowing that she was the sole survivor of the mass murder. Chicken Little could only respond that life had been stressful since then and she was barely coping.
Read the rest in "Chickens, Hawks and Grump Goats: Five Years on a Farm"