I never really worried about the Mayan Apocalypse. When December 22 arrived it wasn't a surprise to us here at HomePlace. It wasn't until we went out Saturday we discovered not everyone had made the trip.
Seven years ago my granddaughter and I found a special of straight run bandy chicks. We came home with twenty five of the little fuzz balls.
Bandys are very creative and these proved to be accomplished escape artist. In time they had established themselves as free rangers. The problem with free range birds is that their numbers tend to dwindle. By the end of the second year the only survivor was Antonio Banty-Deras (named by my wife).
Antonio defined the word feisty. For the next five years he dodged all dangers, and courted all chicken women in their pens. The full sized roosters that occasionally escaped could never catch him. The Dogs and porch cats were led a merry chase. Even the grandkids couldn't trap him. You could tell by watching he was having a ball.
Helene found him the morning of the 22, the victim of a raccoon or Owl. For him, the Mayans got it right. Antonio would have been pleased they went to all that trouble.
No comments:
Post a Comment