The Case of the Missing Chicken: SOLVED
All of my dogs have their tales to be told. Each has a distinct personality and disposition. I’ve written many of Nikki’s stories. Ivan being a normal Siberian, thought he needed one.
I woke up today with my phone buzzing “WARNING!” Being 4 AM, I wasn’t inclined to read the details, but you know how things can set your mind to wondering? I tried to go back to sleep, but I had this nagging feeling that wouldn’t stop. What was the Warning about? The dogs seemed happy to keep sleeping. I didn’t hear any howling winds or someone with a crowbar trying to break in the house.
I gave up and read the important message. It was a storm warning for the D.C. area. We expect 4-6 inches of snow starting Sunday at 1 AM and going through Monday. Now, this may not seem like the end of the world to most folks. But here on the East Coast, where snow is as rare as hen’s teeth. It certainly scares the bejabbers out of the locals.
People in Virginia can’t drive to start with. Throw in a few flakes of snow, and you are taking your life in your hands. Travel the roads with these dry-landers is an exercise in luck. The last time we had that much snow, it shut downD.C. for three days. People abandoned their cars and walked. Which probably saved some lives! The mindset driving this plays out like this: You can’t expect a 35oo pound vehicle to go through 2 inches of snow! Are you mad! I’m not driving in this sh*t.
Okay, back to the story. Being one of those who have lived through the significant power outages and ice storms of Oklahoma. I’ve gotten wiser in my old age. I now have a generator and a Hemi-powered snowblower in case of emergencies…like a few inches of snow. Seeing how I hadn’t started them in 2 years, I thought I might want to check that they still work.
But first, I needed to beat the crowds heading for the grocery store to buy bread, milk, toilet paper, and alcohol. Some things are universal, and you need lots of booze to deal with potential life-threatening snow.
I made a trip to the store and got the essentials. Including a couple of whole chickens to cook up for the dogs. I can put a 6-pound whole chicken in the “Instapot,” which makes enough to feed four dogs for 3-4 days when mixed with kibble. At .99 cents a pound, it’s a great buy, and they love it almost as much as pizza.
I return from the store with the essential 24 pack of toilet paper, three 12-packs of Soda, Beer, and two whole chickens. I also grabbed a 30-pound bag of kibble and a few other needed items. When I got home, I unloaded all of this stuff downstairs, where I have a spare refrigerator for unique things like this. I gave the dogs each a snack and put the food away. The mistake I made was leaving one of the chickens on top of a five-drawer dresser next to the fridge. Why I have a dresser next to the refrigerator? Only a dog runner would understand. I use it to keep the myriad of harnesses, lines, winter clothes, etc., related to running dogs.
The dogs left happy, and I planned to put that chicken in the pot after making sure my generator and snowblower still worked. They did with a little tweaking, but I let them run for a while and wondered why the dogs were not bothering me. I should have realized that something was afoot. I didn’t, and it took time to make sure all the machines were right.
I put the machines away, satisfied they would work if needed. I was feeling pretty good until I went back into the house to get my chicken. It wasn’t where I’d left it! I went upstairs and asked my wife if she took my chicken.
She looked at me with that, “Did you start drinking early today?” look. I ran for the yard because I knew who stole my chicken. I only hoped those three dogs hadn’t eaten already!
I went to the front ¼ acre and heard a sound of cats being boiled in oil or a dying calf in a mud-hole. I spied Ivan standing over his frozen bird and fending off the swooping attacks of Cooper and Nikki trying to get it away from him.
I yelled, and the jig was up. Cooper and Nikki backed off, and that was all the room Ivan needed to pick up that 6-pound frozen bird in his mouth and run for it. He ran like the wind with this old man yelling and chasing him. Even if I were a world-class sprinter, I would never catch him without a brain.
He ran for the pool area, and I shut the gate behind me. He was mine now, but Ivan wasn’t going down without a fight for his bird. In his mind, he stole it fair and square. I cornered him finally and gave him the old scare tactic. Yell and run for the prize. It surprised him, and I picked up the chicken. It didn’t look too bad, with a few tooth marks on it. That’s okay because it was going in the cooking pot for them anyway.
That was my first Ivan tale, and I’m sure others will follow. We are ready to “Ride the Storm Out.”
Was I mad at him? Of course not, he’s a dog and doing what he does. I’m a human and doing what I do. Together we have some stories to tell. I wouldn’t change our relationship for the world!