Let’s just say there was a little problem in the yard earlier in the week. As in MY backyard.
For some reason, I had to share a yard with chickens. My family called the chickens “free-range.” Free-range meaning they could roam all over. That was fine with me. The chickens roosted on me, walked around pecking on my fur and ate bugs close to me.
It was all good. Until……. one of them opened up their feathers, started flapping them in a crazy fashion and started clucking!
I snapped. I did. I snapped that chicken up and the rest in history.
That chicken met its maker that day and even though she became soup, the family decided I needed a chicken-free family. It was hard for me to understand. I mean, the chicken didn’t even have a name. However, I lived in a chicken-loving home, so they decided I had to go.
That’s OK though. I’m told I’m in the best place possible and that my next family will be the one that loves me forever.