C. C. (Churchyard Chick) has discovered an uncomfortable truth. Sitting on the fence gives her splinters.
She hopped up there one morning hoping to make life a bit easier for herself. Thinking she could stay above the fray, she flapped her wings and hoisted herself to the top. At first she was okay there. She could see both sides; she could remain non-commital; and she could simply look the other way if she wanted. By remaining on the fence, she did not feel trapped by any one area. She told herself that she was exercising her independence — that she could go either way at any time. It was the best of both worlds.
However, as the day wore on, she found that, ironically, her teetery stance on the fence became its own prison of sorts. Her constant looking back and forth began to cause her some pain in her neck. Her feet were getting tired. And she was getting hungry. She began to realize that eventually she would have to choose one side or the other in spite of all the cow patties she was desperately trying to avoid! (Both sides have cow patties.)
After much pacing back and forth on the fence (which gets you nowhere!) she made the decision to make a decision. Either way, someone would be critical. (Historically, C. C. has tried to please everyone as far as possible.) She realized that she might ruffle some feathers by taking her stance on the opposite side of the chicken wire from some friends and even some family, but she could not stay on the fence much longer.
Around noon she remembered the warning of one of her teachers at Churchyard School, James. He said, “A double-minded man is unstable in all his ways.” Now she understood that he probably meant chicks too.
Finally, just before dark (which came much earlier due to daylight savings time), she clucked a prayer, held her breath . . . and jumped.