One thing about living on the Double Portion Ranch, there’s always something new and unexpected popping up. Today was a ranch first. It was either ‘Take a chicken to Church’ day, or a whole new take on ‘Free Willie’. You see, we now own a chicken named Willie Nelson. It’s a hen, but I don’t care. That’s its name. My most humble apologies to the famous singer. (Willie, I bet you never had a hen named after you before!)
Today we had a chicken go “On The Road Again”. It really was ‘again’ since it had already had one ride in the big red Ford when it came home from the store. This one was just not planned. Here’s a pic or two of the little stowaway.
In order to avert catastrophe, every time I fire up the red truck of happiness I have to run through a checklist. A smooshed animal definitely qualifies as a catastrophe around here. Thus, the “Clear regions under, next to, or in front of the truck” checklist was born. It goes something like this:
- Sheep – almost always under. Poke with walking stick. Hope they stay out. Check.
- Chickens – Same thing. Poking has no effect. They always go back under. Check.
- Dogs – Smarter animals. Always move because they know better. Check.
- Llama – Can’t fit under but will lay next to. Just threaten to pet. Moves immediately. Check.
- Emus – Must run directly in front of moving vehicle. No way to stop. Go slow. Check.
I now have to add “scan possible perch sites” to the chicken check. I’m sure we’re not the first to experience this, but when it’s your first time, it’s a bit shocking!
This morning we headed off to church as is our custom on Sundays. It’s a little over 11 miles and the trip takes us through historic downtown Seguin. Speeds vary but do get up to 55mph in spots. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary. As we were getting out of the truck, a young guy walking by says “I see you brought your chicken to church today!” Mary and I are like, “huh?” So he points under the truck, and there she was. We were dumbstruck for a moment. I think I said something about it being holy, or at least that word was used. Up in front of the back tire, perched on a rod of some kind, sat the chicken later to be called Willie. It was not moving. Mary thought it was dead. I knew it would not still be sitting there if it were so I was at least a little relieved. What the heck do we do about it though? Obviously I had to get it out. Luckily I drive a ranch truck that comes equipped with stuff to handle situations like this. Except for a box to put the chicken in.
I started to go for the chicken and decided this event really needed to be recorded for posterity, or hilarity, or something, so Mary grabbed my phone and we took the video below. After I got the chicken out, Mary had to go into the church and explain what was happening and ask for a box to put it in. That’s a situation you don’t face every day. Fortunately, they believed her, eventually. What’s even funnier is that they were having a BBQ after church in the parking lot and had the pit all fired up and going. Looks like we brought the chicken! (I kid, I kid! It made it back home to the coop just fine. This time, inside the truck.)