My Chicken-Raising Seester had a big pile of us relatives over for a cookout Sunday night.
We don't need a reason to gather, really, but it is always someone's birthday.
This little fella got himself tangled up in his Auntie's birthday balloon, and I happened to be there to get the picture because I was waiting to photograph someone else.
I was waiting for Alice and Amy.
I always check up on my chickens first thing when I visit the 'ranch'.
When Seester called, "Here, chick, chick, chick", a whole bunch of chickens came running.
Including Snow White...
...and this cocky rooster.
(Doesn't that thing in the bottom left corner look just like a parking block? Do the chickens have little cars? Coupes, maybe?)
The Naked Neck Frizzles came running, too.
I feel all kinds of sorry for these birds.
I just can't help it.
Guess which chickens were the very last to come home?
Alice and Amy.
They were together, as always, but they were keeping to themselves.
And they were far away from all the other chickens.
I had to use my telephoto lens to get a picture.
After several calls, they finally came running.
They were the only ones who had crossed the road.
And, of course, I had to ask them why.
"Why did you chickens cross the road?"
The chickens crossed the road because they were offended.
We call them Alice and Amy, and they hate it.
They hate it because...
...they are roosters.
"Oh, I am so sorry. I didn't know. I just didn't know".
We are hoping, given time, Alistair and Ambrose will forgive and forget.
Still, it was a terrible shock for me.
It upset me so much I could hardly eat.
I had to choke down that barbecued burger.
And that black bean salsa.
And the artichoke salad.
Oh, and that ear of fresh corn my Cowboy Brudder-in-law had just roasted over the fire pit.
It was rough, I tell you.