The chicken community was rife with the news that they had brought with them a disease that was a menace to humans, too.

To some ‘terrorist’ chickens, who thought human beings were still unaware of the fact, it was a welcome piece of news as they had, since long, been planning a suicide attack against their primal foes. But a majority of the civil and wiser chickens were alarmed at the impending mass slaughter at the hands of the human beings.

Soon the news of the chickens and ‘bird flu’ had made the headlines all over the world and made people aware of this deadly menace to their health. The warning was on the CNN, BBC, FOX and almost all the major news channels one can imagine. Chickens were considered the most formidable enemy to humankind at that moment, and a great number of them were killed and burnt in large incinerators everywhere in the world to ward off a viral infection that held the potential of dispatching untold numbers of people heavenward.

A rooster, despite its timid (chicken-hearted) spirit, in the interests of his fellow chickens, decides to raise his voice against these senseless killings by human beings. “Brother humans”, he asks in his timid chicken voice, “Just before you slit my neck and throw me into that incinerator, would you listen to my little plea?”

And when dropped off the hands of the killer, he goes on to explain, “We, no doubt, acknowledge the supremacy of human beings on earth. Your prowess is no wonder to the community of chickens. But despite your intelligence and rationality, don’t you think that ours having ‘bird flu’ is an insufficient reason to exterminate us in this inhuman way; after all, we too have the right to live like you guys?” He continues, “Let’s say, by chance, your puppy catches a flu, or your neighbour next door becomes the next victim. And if you are to solve the problem of disease by killing the sick, don’t you think you will have to kill your own puppy or your own neighbour by the same token?

The slayer cannot answer the rooster and leaves the coop alone. A few metres away from where I sit, a street dog is digging contentedly at a dead chicken, tearing and ripping the flesh apart. Shall I kill the dog, I think not. What say you?