So, been at home for just a few days now, and it’s amazing how some things never change, how some things you can always come home to, while the world around me continues to spin and change. Anyways, more on that in a later post.
Coming back home to the almost Confederate States of America never ceases to surprise me and offer some form of entertainment… things to ponder or scenes to laugh at clear through the night out on the front porch with our sweet tea and fireflies. The first incident involves a rather unique chicken that came home about the same time I did. We live out in the country on a little winding dirt road, and ever since I can remember people seem to think our road is a bit of a humane society for their unwanted animals. Usually they drop off dogs and cats that we, of course, end up rescuing and giving a loving home. We looked around last night and realized, save the beagles and the horses, all of our other animals were donated to us via the ditch bank find.
So anyways, this time someone graciously donated a chicken to us; not just any chicken, but a huge rooster with 2-3 inch spurs and an ego to go with them… he’s quite cocky! We heard him crowing 2 evenings ago, and then he managed to find our yard. I tried to herd him out of the woods and into the yard so my family could see him. I figured if I used a rather long and leafy stick, he would attack it and not me (most chickens I have run across are pretty dumb, you see). Doing my best to scare this chicken, he turns on me, jumps up in the air flailing all of his feathers, claws, and spurs at me, the innocent wielder of his annoyance. I underestimated this chicken, and needless to say I left him quite quickly and headed back for the yard! Soon enough though, he found our house and that our trampoline was as good a place as any for him to roost.
Here we are two days later, and “Foghorn Leghorn” has found our hens and scoped out his new home. Last night, we had a family cookout, and apparently chicken thought he was invited. He walked right up to the porch, gave himself a dirt bath and then jumped right up on our porch bench. This time dad tried to shoo him away with the broom. He got him out in the yard and then the chicken takes off around my dad back to his perch on the porch to rejoin my mom and aunts as we all laughed hysterically. My dad prides himself a bit on his lightning fast speed and the fact that he is a Clemson alumni (Tiger)…and then he gets beat by a chicken (gamecock). Not to be outdone and wanting to regain a bit of dignity, my dad went and put on a coat and some serious gloves. He walks right up to our rebel chicken and grabs him by the legs. He put up a little bit of a fight, but pretty soon he was as tame as any of our other pets and we all got to pet the infamous chicken. Dad took him out to his trampoline roost to remind him of his place in this house, and he remembered as he woke us all up this morning with his fearsome lungs at 6am!
Coming back home to the almost Confederate States of America never ceases to surprise me and offer some form of entertainment… things to ponder or scenes to laugh at clear through the night out on the front porch with our sweet tea and fireflies. The first incident involves a rather unique chicken that came home about the same time I did. We live out in the country on a little winding dirt road, and ever since I can remember people seem to think our road is a bit of a humane society for their unwanted animals. Usually they drop off dogs and cats that we, of course, end up rescuing and giving a loving home. We looked around last night and realized, save the beagles and the horses, all of our other animals were donated to us via the ditch bank find.
So anyways, this time someone graciously donated a chicken to us; not just any chicken, but a huge rooster with 2-3 inch spurs and an ego to go with them… he’s quite cocky! We heard him crowing 2 evenings ago, and then he managed to find our yard. I tried to herd him out of the woods and into the yard so my family could see him. I figured if I used a rather long and leafy stick, he would attack it and not me (most chickens I have run across are pretty dumb, you see). Doing my best to scare this chicken, he turns on me, jumps up in the air flailing all of his feathers, claws, and spurs at me, the innocent wielder of his annoyance. I underestimated this chicken, and needless to say I left him quite quickly and headed back for the yard! Soon enough though, he found our house and that our trampoline was as good a place as any for him to roost.
Here we are two days later, and “Foghorn Leghorn” has found our hens and scoped out his new home. Last night, we had a family cookout, and apparently chicken thought he was invited. He walked right up to the porch, gave himself a dirt bath and then jumped right up on our porch bench. This time dad tried to shoo him away with the broom. He got him out in the yard and then the chicken takes off around my dad back to his perch on the porch to rejoin my mom and aunts as we all laughed hysterically. My dad prides himself a bit on his lightning fast speed and the fact that he is a Clemson alumni (Tiger)…and then he gets beat by a chicken (gamecock). Not to be outdone and wanting to regain a bit of dignity, my dad went and put on a coat and some serious gloves. He walks right up to our rebel chicken and grabs him by the legs. He put up a little bit of a fight, but pretty soon he was as tame as any of our other pets and we all got to pet the infamous chicken. Dad took him out to his trampoline roost to remind him of his place in this house, and he remembered as he woke us all up this morning with his fearsome lungs at 6am!
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