Quote of the day...er...week...umm...hey, look, a quote!!

Tibi gratias agimus quod nihil fumas.

It says "...freedom of...", not "...freedom from...".

Nolite te bastardes carburundorum!

"It's amazing to me how many people think that voting to have the government give poor people money is compassion. Helping poor and suffering people is compassion. Voting for our government to use guns to give money to help poor and suffering people is immoral self-righteous bullying laziness. People need to be fed, medicated, educated, clothed, and sheltered, and if we're compassionate we'll help them, but you get no moral credit for forcing other people to do what you think is right. There is great joy in helping people, but no joy in doing it at gunpoint." - Penn Jillette

Saturday, April 17, 2010

But Imagine the Drumstick!

When I went outside, my heart sank. The pen that I just knew I'd closed was standing opens, all the occupants gone. There wasn't even a feather left behind, just some scratched up earth. The day was dreary, the light grey and wan, and I was pissed.

How freakin' difficult is it, really, to close a dang gate? Someone else must have been in there and forgotten, or been careless. You have to close it just so or it won't latch.

I stomped down the steps, muttering to myself - I put a lot of time, money, and effort into those birds and I just had to get them back.

I called out to them, a warbling coo ending with "...chook, chook, chook, chook, chook..." that usually made them come running - it was the call I made when I brought them treats. Not a peep, not a feather, nothing. The world around me was hushed, almost muffled, not a breath of wind blowing.

I called again, still no response.

I came around a grove of trees and saw one hunkered down on the ground. She stood as I approached, towering above me. She seemed happy enough to see me, and she began her hopping run to get to me. She tripped on a hummock and went down on her knee, squawking.

I got her back into the pen and wondered where the rest of them had got to, if they'd been loosed on purpose, or even stolen. I wondered if I would ever get them back, my experimental, fifty-foot-tall, one-legged, buffle-headed ostriches.
~~~~~
If you think reading about them is peculiar, try seeing 'em in your dreams.

4 comments:

HermitJim said...

Ya know...you may have to stop snacking before bedtime! You do have some particularly strange dreams, my friend!

Wonder what causes that?

Hey, you have a very good day...and don't forget to check the gate again!

Momlady said...

Good grief, girl. Really? What a picture. I agree with Jim. Love you.

Susan said...

Whack a doo!!!

Kyddryn said...

Mister Hermit, sir, I have no idea what causes it...but it entertains the heck outs me, anyway.

Mum, yes really. Would I kid about experimental, one-legged, fifty-foot tall, buffle-headed ostriches?

Mizz Susan, duh.