Being the Random Yarns of Emily Cotton, Merry Scrivener of Fact & Fiction Historical, Animal, & Minimal to Amuse, Inform, & Enlighten.

concerning a chicken, a CPS worker, and a toilet plunger, continued…


So here I am, with a loose chicken in the house. But all in all, it’s not so bad, because Henrietta is heading for the open door of the den. This is far better than if she had gone the other way, into the living room, which has a high open ceiling. My daughter’s cockatiels used to zip in there and they were pretty hard to get down. We had to wait until they perched on the fan, and then turn it on low. (The high speed would have made them flutter to a more solid perch.) As the blades gently rotated, they would try to stay on by hunkering down, wings pressed against the surface while they slowly slid backwards with the centrifugal force. Eventually they would drop off the end. Usually that was enough for the moment, and they would come down to your hand, somewhat bewildered. Repeated several times, all the tops of the fan blades would get dusted.

Where Henrietta is heading, on the other hand, has a nice ordinary ceiling and more to the point, nowhere to perch that is too high for me to reach. In fact what we were using as the den used to be the master suite, but when we were running D-house we made it a public room (Jay and I built a separate apartment out back, it kept us sane when the house was full) so that the small bathroom could be used when the others were occupied.

As soon as the chicken was inside, I shut the door. So now it was just the two of us in a 10 x 16 space full of couches, chairs and shelves. I chased her around the place at speed, but she was faster than I was. Unlike the farmer who sold her to me, I did not have a pool net. We were at an impasse.

I sat down to contemplate the situation. Henrietta stared balefully at me from across the room. As I returned her stare, I saw behind her the door to the former master bathroom, a tiny affair consisting of a shower, a lavatory, and a toilet, and not an extra inch of space. The light bulb went off. In that limited place, there was no way she could avoid me!

So I slid ever so quietly to that side of the room and opener the bathroom door wide and turned on the light invitingly. Then I slid back to the opposite side of the room and resumed my pursuit. It took a few abortive attempts, but soon Henrietta flapped into the bathroom.

Triumph! I bounded inside and slammed the door. Now is was just me and the chicken in a five-by six room. I was sure I had her!

To be continued…


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