"There's a chicken in our backyard!"
We live in the suburbs, not on farmland miles out in the country, although that would be cool, too. Anyway, when you live in the burbs with little backyards with cyclone fencing around them, you don't expect to see a chicken out there when you look out the window. Imagine my surprise, then, when my wife yelled out the quote above. I looked, and indeed there was a chicken in our backyard. Why? How? Is it planning something? Have we been selected perhaps for some kind of honor, or maybe as victims in some devious poultry-based plot?
You know how chickens don't really fly, but can flap their wings and shorta jump-fly short distances? She did just that, over the fence, into our neighbor's yard, thus becoming his problem. I hope she takes him out, really, 'cause he's a dick.
But now I miss her. I thought we had something there for a minute, then she was gone, out of my life forever...