“There are chickens here!” Dug said as he watched some of them flap in their yard, each of them pecking or scratching at the ground as they ignored the fawn with the personality of a sociable dog. Before Dug could go get them, he felt something big tug on his mane. Craning his head, he could see the field nanny, or manny, as the fawns jokingly called him.
“Yes, there are many chickens here. Please don’t go after them please.” Brae turned his charge back to the other...
