by Pa Rock
Struggling Farmer
I get up each morning a little before daybreak to take Rosie outside to do her business and to let the chickens out of their nighttime confinement. After those pre-dawn chores are finished, I will sometimes go back to bed for awhile - depending on how I feel and what else needs to be accomplished on that particular day.
This morning I went back to bed.
However, before I could slip back into slumber, I heard a truck pulling into my driveway and then someone tapping at my front door. Company is such a rarity at my place, that I quickly threw on some clothes and rushed to the door. A young man was standing there, hat in hand - literally. He asked if I had some brown chickens, and when I told him that I did, he pointed down the road and said that he had just run over one. He said that they were in the road as he came upon them, and he was able to avoid all but one. The fellow apologized for killing my little red hen, and he even offered to pay for her. I declined, saying that anyone who lets his chickens walk around unsupervised has to expect things to happen.
(My new roosters are from across the road - right where the accident happened - so I figure they led the girls astray while looking to see what was happening at their former home.)
People drive too fast on these old country lanes. I am hopeful that the guy who hit my chicken will be just a bit more cautious in the future. The next thing that he, or any of us, encounters in the road might just be a child - or some old fart looking for his chickens!
I guess not every chicken is able to cross the road!
Struggling Farmer
I get up each morning a little before daybreak to take Rosie outside to do her business and to let the chickens out of their nighttime confinement. After those pre-dawn chores are finished, I will sometimes go back to bed for awhile - depending on how I feel and what else needs to be accomplished on that particular day.
This morning I went back to bed.
However, before I could slip back into slumber, I heard a truck pulling into my driveway and then someone tapping at my front door. Company is such a rarity at my place, that I quickly threw on some clothes and rushed to the door. A young man was standing there, hat in hand - literally. He asked if I had some brown chickens, and when I told him that I did, he pointed down the road and said that he had just run over one. He said that they were in the road as he came upon them, and he was able to avoid all but one. The fellow apologized for killing my little red hen, and he even offered to pay for her. I declined, saying that anyone who lets his chickens walk around unsupervised has to expect things to happen.
(My new roosters are from across the road - right where the accident happened - so I figure they led the girls astray while looking to see what was happening at their former home.)
People drive too fast on these old country lanes. I am hopeful that the guy who hit my chicken will be just a bit more cautious in the future. The next thing that he, or any of us, encounters in the road might just be a child - or some old fart looking for his chickens!
I guess not every chicken is able to cross the road!
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