Clucking on death's door
So Anna and I are driving back into Decatur a couple of days ago and I notice a chicken standing perfectly still in the median of the highway. So Anna insists that I turn around so we can see if that was truly what I had seen. Well after seeing that this was indeed a chicken Anna then insisted that I call the police. Now I knew that the police had no desire to run a call to look after this chicken...I knew that the chicken wasn't causing a road hazard beyond my car sitting still in the turn lane...but I had to call. Not because I'm whipped mind you...but mainly because of this....
My normally fashion conscience wife-to-be was standing in the middle of Hwy 31 in wind pants, socks, and high heels trying to keep this chicken from a certain smashing. Now because I didn't have the phone number for the fashion police...I called Decatur PD. Now I'm a compassionate person. I love animals. But this chicken had clearly fallen off of a truck destined for the chicken plant. It was injured and was clucking on death's door. But I made the call anyway.
Dispatcher: "Central Dispatch"
Me: "Uh yeah...I kind of have a weird thing here.."
Dispatcher: "Okay"
Me: "I'm at the corner of 6th and Wilson and there is a chicken in the middle of the road...my girlfriend made me call..."
Dispatcher: "----"
Me: {Hysterical laughter breaks out on my end of the phone} "She's standing in the middle of 6th Avenue in windpants and high heels...I'm sorry...this is just too funny"
Dispatcher: "Listen I understand her...I would be doing the same thing. I have an officer on the way"
So the officer shows up...we laugh a little...and he picks it up and takes it over to a flower bed in the parking lot of a convenience store nearby.
The next night Anna decides that she is going to go by and check on the bird. This is where the irony gets thick. I'm eating a chicken sandwich...serious business...an Arby's chicken/bacon/swiss sandwich. She stops at a grocery store to buy the chicken some corn and water. Well she gets back in the jeep and the first thing she says is "Oh I want a bite of that". ? I'm sorry...you are going to great effort to prolong the existence of this chicken...yet you are jonesing for a bite of my CHICKEN sandwich? Oh the irony.
The last time I looked the little original recipe was still hanging out in his Shell station flower bed.
Best of luck to you little buddy...I'm sure we'll meet again...maybe over lunch?
posted by Dave @ Wednesday, February 22, 2006
7 comments
7 Comments:
Oh my my- Anna in high heels and windpants- all she needed was an inhaler and a gold tooth-
Good job snapping a photo of the fashion crime scene.
That is TOO funny! I looked at the picture before reading on and asked myself, "is she wearing warm-ups and high heels?", then I kept reading and my question was answered.
Great post!
Awwwwwww...I'm just not sure where to start.
I would have done the same thing Anna did, but probably taken my chicken McNuggets with me to munch on while I saved his feathery tail.
Why are we ignoring the big issue here? Why was Anna wearing high heels and windpants in the first place? If the answer is that she was not wearing shoes, but there were a pair of heels in the trunk, then I completely understand.
Secondly, I would have done the same thing to save the chicken. I have actually gotten out and pushed a turtle across the road so it wouldn't get crushed.
I was wondering how long it would take for someone to ask this question. We had been to my sister's house and Anna did not take clothes to change into after church. So she borrowed windpants and a sweatshirt from my sister. All this left her for shoes was the heels. So...when the bird emergency happened...she grabbed the only thing she could. She sacrificed her fashion reputation for the life of a chicken. Is there any wonder I'm marrying her?
Anna cracks me up. "Chicken Hero" one second... "Chicken Eater" the next.
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