Once a month, our group is assigned a day to clean our place of worship. It is usually a Friday or Saturday afternoon. I prefer to do the weeding of the landscape areas, instead of cleaning the bathrooms, dusting, etc.

Last Friday, I showed up at 11:00 to get started before the temps got high. I had all my tools, gloves, knee pads, water, and a bucket to put the weeds in. Whenever I weed, I forget my little iPod, so I have music to work by. One of these days I won’t forget and I will be singing to the plantlife that are not weeds. I figured I could stand at least an hour longer with good music in my ears.

I did not have my earbuds, so I could hear a critter sneaking around in the big flower bed. It was very quiet. I could sense movement, but I did not see anything. As it got closer, it sounded like the critter was bitching about something under his breath. It had to be a smaller creature than a bear or a mountain lion, but I could not even guess what it could be. I was unafraid of this shy, mumbling thing, even though it stalked me.


When it approached, it stayed in my blind spot. I could sense its presence. I slowly turned my head to look over my right shoulder, and I saw him. He was larger than I imagined, and his feathers were gray/brown, perfectly matching the decorative bark in the flower bed.
I spoke first.
“Hi there,” I said quietly.

He chatted about something, as if to respond. He did not look in my direction but wandered over to the side of the flower bed I had already weeded. I think he was a chicken, maybe a plump rooster. It was sort of like someone was hanging out with me. Before I found a name to call him, another chicken came upon us. This chicken was not plump or as big as “my” chicken. She certainly was NOT happy with my chicken either. Her squawking and yelling seemed domestic, like a ticked-off wife discovering her husband neglecting his chores and hanging out with a female not of his species.

Mister Fluffy (he had his name now) ignored her harassment and kept walking away from her. It made me think about my husband and how he tries to avoid contact with me when I am angry.

I don’t claim to speak chicken, but I think I understand what Fluffy was grumbling about.

Side note: Fluffy may not be overweight. He may be wearing his extra-thick winter coat. We are still seeing freezing temperatures up here.

TTFN