When Ricky the rooster was just a young chick, he loved to practice his crowing. His mother and the other hens would gather around, admiring his strong, clear voice as he let out his first attempts at a crow. “That’s my boy!” his mother would proudly cluck. “You’ve got the most beautiful crow I’ve ever heard.”
As Ricky grew into a full-fledged rooster, his crow became louder and more impressive each day. The hens loved to wake up to the sound of his morning serenade, announcing the start of a new day on the farm. Ricky took great pride in his crowing abilities and couldn’t get enough of hearing the hens’ praise.
However, as time went on, Ricky’s crowing became excessive. He would crow at sunrise, noon, and sunset, filling the air with his incessant calls. What was once a delightful wake-up call soon became an annoyance to the hens.
“Can’t that rooster give it a rest?” one hen would grumble.
“His crowing is driving me crazy!” another would complain.
Ricky, oblivious to the hens’ frustration, continued to crow at every opportunity, reveling in the sound of his own voice.
One day, after a particularly long and grating crowing session, the hens had had enough. “We can’t take it anymore!” they cried out. “Please, Ricky, stop crowing so much!”
Hurt by their words, Ricky fell silent. At first, the hens were relieved by the newfound peace and quiet. But soon, they realized that without Ricky’s morning crow, they were sleeping in too late, and their egg-laying schedules were thrown off.
A young hen named Daisy approached Ricky one morning. “Ricky,” she said gently, “we miss your crowing. It’s just that when you crow all day long, it gets a bit overwhelming. Could you maybe just crow for a few minutes in the morning to wake us up?”
Ricky considered Daisy’s request and decided to give it a try. The next morning, he let out a five-minute crow, announcing the start of the day. The hens were initially wary, fearing that he would revert to his old habits, but when he stopped after those few minutes, they breathed a sigh of relief.
The following day, Ricky crowed again for just a short while, and the hens couldn’t help but smile at the familiar sound. However, on the third morning, Ricky remained silent, convinced that the hens still disliked his crowing.
Daisy noticed the lack of Ricky’s morning call and sought him out. “Ricky, why didn’t you crow today?” she asked with a concerned look.
Ricky hung his head low. “I thought you all still hated my crowing, so I didn’t want to bother you.”
Daisy smiled warmly. “Oh, Ricky, we love your morning crow! It’s just when you crowed all day that it became too much. We need your beautiful voice to start our days off right.”
With Daisy’s encouragement, the other hens gathered around Ricky, expressing their appreciation for his morning serenade. They even threw him a surprise party, complete with a special “Cock-a-doodle-doo” cake, to show their gratitude.
From that day on, Ricky crowed each morning, filling the farm with his melodious wake-up call. The hens were happy, their schedules were back on track, and Ricky felt like a valued member of the flock once again. He had learned an important lesson: too much of a good thing can ruin it, but moderation can make it something truly special.
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