Friday, March 15, 2013

What Not to Do When You Hear Squawking

Upon returning from my walk with dogs, I hear squawking near the chicken house.

I count dogs.

I am missing Caeli, my Coyote Girl.

I sprint toward the barn and join the chicken squawking chorus.

Two roosters had flown into the yard, and Caeli is determined to put them back into the chicken yard.

The problem is that roosters cannot fit through wire mesh fence, no matter how hard they try.

Believe me, they are trying. Feathers are flying; they are squawking; I am squawking; Caeli is grabbing feathers.

This is not going to end pretty.

Then, I come to my senses, take a big breath and say, "Caeli, lie down."

Caeli is trained as a herding dog. She knows that command.

Ears pricked forward, she lies down about three feet from the roosters.

That gives me enough time to walk toward her, turn my body toward the house, and tell her, "That'll do."

She stands up, spits out a few feathers, and trots toward me, quite proud of herself for doing her job.

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