Hi, there! I am on hiatus at Mither and Pop’s house.

I have escaped. *cue the evil laughter*

I am thinking about probably going home tomorrow. I am taking Noah, the wonder-child, home with me for five days and he will come back up here to his Nana and Pop’s house with Kessa and Gilbert when they come to visit next Tuesday. We are very excited to have him and this will be his first visit to my house.

Yesterday evening we all loaded up in the family truckster and headed out to Chico, Texas, population 947. We met up with my red-headed aunt, Holly. Or, as Mither and I like to call her, Holly-Log. We then proceeded to a fine 5 star establishment named Chico Mart and had the best hamburgers you have ever not tasted. Cause I’m betting you haven’t. Anyway, they were super good.

While we were dining Holly proceeded to tell me a whopper story about The Chico Rooster and her hand in his demise. Or almost demise.

Now, before I get too into The Rooster story you need to understand a little about my aunt, Holly.

There isn’t too much in her house that doesn’t have a feather or tassel attached to it.

There is never an occasion when she doesn’t have perfectly applied make-up and something, somewhere on her that sparkles. Holly is all that and more. She be the glam queen.

Now that you know Holly, here’s the story she relayed about The Chico Rooster

It seems that no one really knows where this particular rooster came from but he had been out, gadding about Chico for several years. Flitting from one spot to the next and staying one yard ahead of any stray dogs and the city workers trying to capture him.

This was before he met Holly.

Over, about the past year said rooster interrupted her early morning beauty sleep with voiceterous crowing. AND, to add insult to injury, he pooped great messy globs of… rooster poop all over her porch.

Repeatedly.

He then had a sworn enemy.

Again and again,  Holly called The City of Chico and begged them to find and get rid of that public menace of a rooster. OH, how he loved sneaking onto her back porch late at night and roosting/pooping, before awakening her in the wee hours of the morning.

And they tried.  No one could catch that bird.  They tried to catch him everywhere. In town, in back yards, on sidewalks, in streets. He was everywhere.

Yet, he was wiley.

There were some near misses with The Rooster and Holly’s pistol as well, but the damned thing seemed to just know how far away to stay to keep Holly from risking a shot that might ricochet.

OOOOH, HE WAS EEEE-VILE! And cocky! He strutted around the yard like he owned the place! Or down the street! Chico was HIS TOWN, and he was on the take! He had no scruples, no propriety. Not to mention he had waaay more than nine lives.

Then. One day not too long ago. Holly’s neighbor’s schnauzer, Ranger, started a huge ruckus in the backyard. There were feathers flying and caterwauling like you can’t imagine.

And there was the Holly, “Get ’em, Ranger!”. Cheering the dog on to an easily assumed ultimate victory.

Soon enough, The Rooster was still and Ranger backed off to proudly display his “kill”.

Holly got a box out of the house and picked The Rooster up by the tail feathers.

The Rooster was merely stunned. Back to life he came and valiantly attempted to fight his way out of the box as lil’ Miss Glitz and Glam wrangled him in and slammed the lid shut.

Phone calls were made at this point and directly a city employee showed up at Holly’s door to pick up The Rooster.

All I can say is this:

There really IS such a thing as The Rooster Relocation Program. You probably never heard of it… that’s because it’s top secret.

Dana! Stop lurking! 😉