Good morning!

There was no newsletter last week; my wife grounded me.

Here’s why.

Living in the suburbs, I gave up on my dream of owning chickens.

All our neighbors have dogs, as do we. 

For Phoebe, we didn’t need an electric fence, just a long leash attached to a stake in the ground.  

For Henry, Krissy (my wife) said stakes wouldn’t cut it. Therefore, now, both dogs are operating within that expensive electric fence with their expensive new dog collars around our little yard.

Recently, friends had us out to their place. 

They have 20-30 variously patterned chickens making dozens of eggs.

Jealousy wouldn’t even begin to describe my emotions that night.

“David, this is ridiculous. You haven’t spoken to me or Charlie (our son) all night”. 

The next couple of days were quite rough until I had an ‘aha moment’ while waking.

Krissy and Charlie were still asleep when I got up before our WWAD and drove to a crisp white house adjacent to a weathered red barn 6 miles down a winding, country road. Every time we bike past their chicken sign, I feel warm inside.

Rap, rap on their metal front door. 

I had to wait several minutes before he finally came to the entryway.

“GOOD MORNING, SIR!! I’d like to buy 2 chickens!”

“Boyyy! (adjusts overalls, wipes sleep from his right eye) What in THE **** are you waking me and the Mrs. up for at this hour? Do you have any idea what time it is?”

The roosters were also awoken.

I had to raise my voice louder over the birds.

“Sir, I know, sir! But there are times in our lives when we have to just go after what we want. And now, sir, is one of those times. I need your help!”

“Boy! It is 3:45 in the morning! I will count to 10, and you best be off my porch. One… two… three…”

He apparently didn’t care to sell chickens as much as his sign conveyed.

I scrambled back to my Jeep and took off. Dust and rocks flew behind my rear wheels as I spun out of his gravel driveway back onto the main road.

“Susan, this is a medical newsletter, right?”

About 3 miles closer to home, as luck would have it, 2 chickens were crossing the road. Get it? 

They weren’t wearing collars, so I rounded them up and threw them in the back of my Wrangler.

They did not appreciate that. At all.

As the ride grew in length, it was apparent this was likely their first car ride.

When I returned home, Krissy was still asleep, and both dogs were now in my spot on the bed. I gently eased off their electric collars, not to wake them. 

I headed back out to the garage, where I was letting the chickens blow off some steam.

They seemed like they still needed even more space. So, after I got their new collars on, I opened our garage door.

Big mistake.

While I was working hard to build 2 nests for my brand new chickens, 3 things were rapidly becoming obvious.

(1) The chickens were having some trouble identifying the yard borders.

(2) They did not like their collars.

(3) The setting of a collar for a 45 lb dog is not the appropriate setting for a chicken.

Between the chickens making their normal noises, the noises they made hitting the fence, and the neighbors screaming, “It sounds like there are chickens outside!” Honestly, it was a mess.

Then Krissy came downstairs (really cute in her Winnie the Pooh flannels, but angry. Actually, quite angry).

“DAVID, WHAT THE HE** IS GOING ON OUT HERE! DO YOU KNOW IT’S 4:45 AM!!”

With all the commotion, my poor wife forgot and left the front door wide open. 

Our dogs, normally deep sleepers, came bolting out the front door. Their eyes fixed on my new chickens (I was a little surprised because I thought they had been bred more to hunt waterfowl).

No longer restrained by their collars, they took a synchronized running leap at my birds. 

Tackling the chickens, their momentum carried them over the electric fence. While it stunned the birds for 20 seconds (felt longer), it also broke them free of the fence.

Despite most of the neighbors’ lights now being on, it was still extremely dark and not a good setting to find a couple of angry birds with expensive collars.

With the help of treats, I eventually retrieved the dogs, but I cannot say the same for the chickens and their collars, I mean, the dogs’ collars.

Wait a minute, did you ask why I was grounded or why I didn’t write the newsletter?

*Fun fact – does anybody know the closest living relative to the T-Rex?
YES, correct! The chicken!!!

Disclaimer: No chickens, dogs, or humans were injured physically, mentally, or emotionally in the writing of this week’s newsletter. This story is entirely fictional, and all meant for good fun.