Thorsten Denhard, CC BY-SA 3.0, via Wikimedia Commons
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By Bill Stokes
Kickass, the doorstop dog, reports that the keeper is refining his campaign to keep a small flock of chickens on his Vista West balcony after reading of the man in Ireland dying of a heart attack following an attack by one of his own chickens. His last word–as medics attempted revival, was reportedly “Rooster.”
The keeper will be specifying “only hens” in his chicken-balcony request; and the incident recalls a childhood incident at Grandpa Helgeland’s farm where a rooster treed the keeper’s little sister Norma on the windmill ladder from which she had to be rescued by Grandma.
It being WWII time, the rooster was named Hitler and it was no small celebration when he became the centerpiece of Thanksgiving dinner.
The keeper is thinking of trying to make a deal with Phyllis that if she is around when he utters his last word and the word is something like “hen,” or “chicken,” or even “rooster,” she mercifully report it as being something more appropriate like “Goodbye” or “So-long.”
He may talk to Phyllis about it today, and then again he may not, as upbeat and reluctant as she is to dwell on unpleasantries.
