It had been a typical day. All the usual minutiae with a highlight of a major plumbing crisis under the kitchen sink. Our cocktail reading hour was mercifully upon us at long last and the CE decided the week-old baby chicks were ready to join us in the chicken yard for some late afternoon sun. He rigged up a sturdy corral cage for them.
Lily was there, of course and oh, by the way, The Countess came along for the outing. What could possibly go wrong?
I’ll give you the moral of the story straight up: DON’T BE IDIOTS!!!!
Lily (good dog!) soon lay down for an afternoon snooze, but The Countess was on the prowl. We laughed and laughed at the way our royal lioness paced and quivered and stared at the babies. Oh so amusing, right?
I was a little uneasy and stood watch for quite awhile. The chicks were having great fun learning to peck and scratch just like real hens. The CE had gone inside to deploy dual hairdryers to the wet plumbing mess under the kitchen sink so I was on my own with the critters. But then The Countess decamped to another part of the yard and I finally settled into a chair with my book. The cares of the day melted away with the sound of sweet little peeps in the background.
Thirty seconds later all hell broke loose. Suddenly the baby chicks were skittering across the yard with The Countess in hot pursuit! What happened???!!!! The moment I looked away she had stealthily returned and like the criminal she is, figured out a way to displace an unsecured seam in the cage. The chicks were out! And The Countess was one paw swipe a way from a chicken dinner!
If only we had video of me pathetically screaming for the CE to help. Of course he was over in the kitchen and heard not a thing because of the drone of the double hairdryers. I’m sure the neighbors heard me because we ran into them on our walk this morning and they rather pointedly asked “how are you two doing?” Only later did I realize they had probably heard what sounded like an attempted murder at our house the other day.
Well, it was definitely attempted murder. We were split seconds away from either that or the chicks disappearing under the deck never to be seen again after encountering whatever lurks beneath (skunks, rodents and worse, I believe).
Providence miraculously intervened and I somehow was able to pluck both the babies in mid-flight and toss them back into the cage, which has since been firmly secured.
All is well now (no thanks to The Countess). The babies are ten days old today. No names yet – we are eagerly anticipating granddaughter Caleigh’s list. Both chicks are beginning to sprout the tiniest feathers from their wings. They are preciously bonded to one another.
The kitchen sink situation is still unresolved, if ever so slightly less wet. But as long as we manage NOT TO BE IDIOTS I think everything else will be just fine since the little ones seem to be thriving.
And The Countess? Well, we’re keeping a close eye on her. Here she is, looking rather like the cat that almost ate the canary…