Looking for my wild pack of zombies

[plucky]

A white chicken sags dejectedly, a length of floppy, pink colon flopped over its head, obscuring one beady chicken eye. The pencil-thin appendix bobs in the air like a fleshy partridge feather with every pitiful sigh. Suddenly, the chicken hears a low distant moaning in the distance and her head shoots up, the organ slithering off her comb to the ground. She burbles deep in her throat and scuttles forward a few steps. She crows excitedly, listening for answering groans. Hopping up to tree branch, she scans the horizon and sees a pack of rotting zombies milling about in a far enclosure. She hopes they are her own pack of undead, her mobile decomposing herd with scalps to grip and maggots to feast upon.

Yep, I've spotted another poking-dead-things-with-a-stick job and applied for it.