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#1
11-09-2006, 04:56 PM
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Just putting this one back near the top so I can find it easier next time, and so that Timm doesn't have to go searching for it.
Next chapter will be about squirrels and nuts. Then the skunk story. It really stinks. Stay tuned. DTS 
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#2
11-09-2006, 05:03 PM
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Cancel my subscription,please! Content not worthy of my time. Constructive things I can and will listen to,but future editions look to be bleak!
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#3
11-09-2006, 05:09 PM
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Quote:
I thought you'd enjoy this one. Do you REALLY mean that you have no interest in reading about the poodle in a future chapter? The one after the squirrel and the skunk? Man-o-man...You're a tough, tough editor. Do you have any interest in the rat story?
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#4
11-09-2006, 05:15 PM
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Sorry...I'm not an animal guy,I've had enough pets, and I've definately had enough of the RATS!....they'll be all over the place for a couple of years
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#5
11-09-2006, 05:36 PM
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Quote:
they've been around for about six years. Their names will be changed to protect the "innocent", but Delay, Abrahmoff, Lay, geesh ...this is going to be a long, long chapter. Maybe you won't read it, plenty of others will. Heck, some people even buy O'Reilly's book...go figure....people will read anything! Some people still even listen to Rush Limbaugh (or is that limburger)...smells like old cheese to me, but then again, RATS like to feed on it. btw, I really do like animals. People could learn a lot from them.
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#6
11-11-2006, 01:23 PM
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Timm,
I forgot to tell you about a little bantam rooster that once strutted around the place like he owned it. One day, I decided to do an experiment. I carefully counted out exactly one hundred corn kernals. I made sure no other cluckers were around and tossed them in his direction. There and then, right on the bare asphalt driveway, that bantam rooster went to scratchin' and feedin'. Dang near wore of the claws at the ends of his spindly little feet trying to get 'em all. Best he could do was 31% of them. Yup, only 31%. Seems his crop got so blown up that he started chokin', right then and there. Well, I could tell his struttin' days were over, but I didn't know what to do for him. A few minutes later, the donkey got loose and with all the commotion going on from that bantam rooster, my guess is that the donkey was curious about what it could do too. The whole thing came to a sudden halt when that donkey stepped on the bantam rooster's head. I don't think the donkey meant to but that little fluffy feathered guy didn't know what had hit him. Problem solved. Anyway, I did an autopsy on that little bantam rooster before he found his tough little carcass in a big pot of boiling water. You might have guessed it...inside that crop that he wanted to stuff full and choked on were exactly 31 kernals of corn. 31%.
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#7
11-12-2006, 02:13 PM
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The Tale of the Chicken Hawk
Long ago, in a tall white pine near the cluckers' coup came a chicken hawk. More specifially, it was a goshawk. It was very fierce, very hungry. I couldn't really blame him for sitting there, looking down on my tastey little pullets, and I certainly did my best to scare him away. I threw some rocks up at his high perch in that white pine, and he'd fly away for a little while, but he always came back. I knew it would be a matter of time. Sure, I knew that goshawks are "protected" raptors. My guess is that he did too. I just didn't want him to eat any of my little hens. We actually got to know each other for a while. I named him Hally Burton. He'd see me coming across the yard towards the coop and take off from the white pine before I could toss a rock in his direction. That Hally Burton chicken hawk was one old smart bird. Well, one day, while I was away at school, I guess ol' Hally couldn't stand it any longer. My dad told me that he watched the whole thing unfold. He saw that rock dodger fly from his perch and go right through the open window of the little hen house. For sure he was waiting for the pullets to come inside to their nests, ready to pick one off for his dinner. Anyway, my dad just walked over and closed the window. Hally guy was trapped. Let me tell you, he tore up the inside of that place! When I got off the school bus, my dad told me what was waiting and asked me what I wanted to do. I just said that I'd like to let him go, but dad didn't expect that he'd be flying off too far, and the "problem" would come back to his perch. So dad and I hashed it out for a while, and I finally did what I thought was the right thing. Yup, I just opened the door and hoped he would fly away and learn his lesson. Hoping he wouldn't come back... As that chicken hawk came flapping out, dad reached for the rack in the rear window of his pickup, loaded a 12 guage shell, and dropped ol' Hally like a clay pigeon at the skeet range. "Problem" solved. My dad has since passed on, so there's no use prosecuting him, and the goshawk won't be botherin' to any time soon. Some lessons are harder learned than others, I guess. RIP Hally Burton...and my dad, too. Thanks for teaching me about "enough is enough". Last edited by Downthestretch55 : 11-12-2006 at 02:43 PM.
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