Years ago, my then-toddler used to receive monthly a new age-appropriate book, courtesy of our state’s early childhood literacy program. One of the more memorable offerings was the tale of a certain prairie chicken with more pluck than brains. Alas, the book suffered the fate that awaits many books owned by teething toddlers, but I recall that the riveting plot centered on one day in the life of the prairie chicken, who really wants dinner—but whom surrounding predators would like to make their dinner.
