I am going to tell you a story. It is a funny story about the day I went to see a friend out on her property. Gina and I have quite a bit in common. We both are hippies at heart and we both love junk! She has a great piece of property with lots of room to move around. She has flower gardens, vegetable gardens, lots of shacks filled with junk. My kinda place. She also has chickens. One particular day Gina invited me out to her place. I asked if I could bring Dyna as she also has a dog named Ding dog and I figured Dyna could expand on her non-existing social skills.
We were having a lovely day of it, the sun was shining, it was a perfect day. We were inside for awhile as she had introduced me to the wine sock. I had never heard of such a thing. It is just that, a knit sock made especially for a bottle of wine. Gina is my kinda gal. No dinky little wine glasses, just put that sock over your bottle of wine and drink up! The wine stays chilled inside the sock and no dirty glasses to wash up after company is gone. I loved it! We wandered around for awhile with the dogs in tow and hugging our wine socks. When we came back to the house, the dogs left us alone and we sat around gabbing about everything and nothing. You know girl stuff, I hate sex, she loves sex, you know just gabby girls gabbing. She then hears the chickens making a racket and screams “I forgot to lock up the chickens!” She went flying out of the house on a holy terror. I, on the other hand wobbled my way out and followed her the best I could still hanging onto that incredible wine sock.
The next thing I hear in the distance is Gina screaming “Dyna put Carmel down!” Apparently Dyna likes chickens. Being a Jack Russell I am not surprised. Dyna also has never seen a chicken in her life and must have thought this was the biggest smorgasbord she has ever had laid her eyes on, never mind her teeth. The next few minutes are some of the funniest images I have ever seen. Dyna running away with the chicken in her mouth and she has it by the neck, with my friend on a dead terror run right behind her screaming at the top of her lungs. That chicken was doomed. Finally after getting some control over my drunken images of my friend chasing Dyna and the chicken, I called to her and she came. She was pretty wild eyed by then and I calmly told her to “Drop It” And she did.
Now laying at my feet was a dead looking chicken and here comes Gina. I am now thinking what can I do to make up for this mess my dog has just got me into and she probably will take my wine away. I pick up the chicken and cradle it in my arms and for some wine induced reason I gave it a kiss on it’s feathery little head. Holy crap the thing came back to life. Or stopped playing dead. Scared the crap out of me and now my friend is laughing her hysterical butt off at me. She says “I have never seen anyone kiss a chicken before”.
We had a great day, we had a stew cooked in her cauldron over an open flame outside with vegetables picked from her garden. Thank goodness we didn’t have to add chicken to this stew. Dyna was put on a leash and never left my side for the duration of our stay. Obviously the day came to an end to which a taxi was called to come get my wine drunken ass home and Dyna peed on the taxi seat. I cleaned it up, went home and passed out with Dyna by my side. About a month later I needed to call a taxi again and they specifically told me that Dyna was not allowed in the car. They even remembered her name. Now that was embarrassing!