The Little Red Hen – Coyote Approved Version

"Not I." said the cat.

“Not I.” said the cat.

I used to love the this story as a child but it always seemed to be missing a little something. In honor of coyote energy I have updated this tale for my own satisfaction.

Once upon a time, a little red hen bought a bag of wheat after her permaculture class. It was an heirloom variety that grew well in her area. She looked at her garden when she got home and realized that she had a lot of work ahead of her. Perhaps her co-op members would lend a hand.

“Who will help me plant the wheat?” asked the Little Red Hen.

“Not I.” said the dog.

“Not I.” said the cat.

“You’re doing it wrong.” said the pig.

“Then I will do it myself.” said the Little Red Hen and she did. The Little Red Hen tilled the soil and added compost and dug furrows and planted the seed. Soon the wheat grew tall and fat. It was time to harvest the wheat. Once again, the Little Red Hen hesitated before starting her task.

“Who will help me reap the wheat?” asked the Little Red Hen.

“Not I.” said the dog.

“Not I.” said the cat.

“You’re doing it wrong.” said the pig.

wheat“Then I will do it myself.” said the Little Red Hen and she did. The Little Red Hen cut the wheat heads and dried them and separated the wheat from the chaff and bagged the wheat to take it be milled. She read the instructions for milling and decided to use an electric mill to turn the wheat into flour. Once again, she asked her friends for help.

“Who will help me grind the wheat?” asked the Little Red Hen.

“Not I.” said the dog.

“Not I.” said the cat.

“You’re doing it wrong.” said the pig.

“Then I will do it myself.” said the Little Red Hen and she did. The Little Red Hen set up the mill and fed the wheat into the hopper and collected the flour and cleaned up the dust that seemed to settle into every crevice of her kitchen. Now it was time to test the flavor of the flour by baking it. She looked over the recipe that was suggested for this variety of wheat and got a little nervous when she saw how many times she had to knead the dough.

“Who will help me bake the bread?” asked the Little Red Hen.

“Not I.” said the dog.

“Not I.” said the cat.

“You’re doing it wrong.” said the pig.

bread“Then I will do it myself.” said the Little Red Hen and she did. The Little Red Hen mixed the ingredients and primed the yeast and kneaded the dough and let the bread rise and tended to it for hours and shaped the dough and baked it in the oven. As she started to smell the crust turn a golden brown, she warmed the frying pan and set her entire collection of carving knives on the table for all to see.

The smell of fresh baked bread lured the cat and dog into the kitchen at once. The Little Red Hen smiled a secret smile as they sat down at the table and viewed the knives curiously.

“Who will help me slice the bread?” asked the Little Red Hen.

“Not I.” said the dog. Then he sniffed the air. “Is that bacon you are cooking?”

“Where’s the pig?” said the cat.

The Little Red Hen said nothing and turned back to tend the frying pan on the stove. The cat and the dog exchanged nervous glances as she hummed to herself in an off-key manner. They began to re-evaluate the situation and draw unpleasant conclusions.

“Are you staying for dinner?” asked the Little Red Hen. When she received no answer, she turned around to see that the cat and the dog were gone. Both of them went on a long, unexpected trip and were rumored to be couch surfing in San Francisco under assumed names.

The Little Red Hen scooped her dinner out of the frying pan and placed it on a plate just as she heard the pig flushing the toilet. He walked into the kitchen wiping his hooves on his pants.

“You should have a composting toilet instead. It saves water.” said the pig.

The Little Red Hen said nothing. She stood in front of the dinner table quietly waiting as the pig took in the scene before him.

“Is that fake bacon?” asked the pig incredulously. “Gross. That is just wrong. I am a pig for God’s sake. That isn’t funny. You are sick.”

The pig never visited the Little Red Hen again. She enjoyed her dinner and later made new friends that shared her interests and only gave advice when asked and she lived happily ever after.

The End.

 

 

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1 Response to The Little Red Hen – Coyote Approved Version

  1. Debra Harrow says:

    Very fun! Love the details. Your sense of humor is droll.

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