One Of These Things

One Of These Things

Hey Hon, come look!  Steve and Bandit were in the living room looking out the window. They were looking at the chickens. I was hoping for bunnies, but nope, they were looking at the chickens. I love seeing the chickens roaming around as much as the next gal, but wasn’t so sure I needed a break from banjo practice to see the chickens pecking in the lawn. Bunnies, yes, but chickens, not so much.

Come to think of it, I’ve become somewhat desensitized to the fact that not everybody has chickens and bunnies roaming around on their front lawn on a regular basis. Of course, I don’t name them anymore, not after the incident with Martha.

The truth of the matter is that when I slow down, I love to look at them. There’s usually a beautifully plumed rooster, his harem, and chicks foraging for food on our front lawn at least a few times a day. They come in what I like to call family groups. It’s sort of like the poultry version of Sister Wives. One rooster and a whole lot of hens cluck, cluck, clucking away. I mean really, those hens ought to get a life, but no, they share Super Chicken leading to all sorts of inbreeding and debauchery.

Lookin out

Since I do like to go off track every chance I get, now would be a good time to mention that my sister Shannon actually knows all the words to Super Chicken. Yes, she does. Cracked myself up. Now where was I going with this? Oh yes, back to earth I came when Steve said Look! Really look! And so I took another look at the chickens. I also looked at the junipers hoping to see a cottontail. Cottontails always make me smile.

Chickens, I see chickens! The same family that was here yesterday afternoon. I reported. Want me to do my chicken dance?  Yes I do have a chicken dance. It never fails to put a smile on Steve’s face when I do my chicken dance. Of course I started flapping before Steve had a chance to answer me. Bandit, thinking it was play time, ran and got his frog. You’re going to hurt yourself. Focus Cheryl, focus! Take another look! I stopped mid flap and took another look out the window. Oh my! I could feel a new dance coming on! As I am somewhat juvenile, I belted out the song from Sesame Street, One of These Things is Not Like the Other, and proceed to do my new dance.

The Pheasant Dance! You have a Pheasant Dance? Steve said with a twinkle in his eyes. Doesn’t everybody? I laughed. It’s not mine exactly. Everyone has their own dance and no two are the same. It’s kind of like fingerprints if you think about it. Anyway, I can copy Mr. Pheasant but that’s the best I can do.  The only dance we can perform to perfection is our own.

The Pheasant Dance! You have a Pheasant Dance? Steve said with a twinkle in his eyes. Doesn’t everybody? I laughed. It’s not mine exactly. Everyone has their own dance and no two are the same. It’s kind of like fingerprints if you think about it. Anyway, I can copy Mr. Pheasant but that’s the best I can do.  The only dance we can perform to perfection is our own.

Wanna Dance

 

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