The Fricken' Chickens! POST #19

       One of the things I love about the south is that instead of seeing things through the eyes of skeptics thus, attributing bad motives where there really are none, most see things through the lens of a storyteller. Therefore, when all is said and done, it is just that! A story! In order to tell this one, I must first share an issue I’ve had since childhood. Though age and maturity has tempered it, in the most inconvenient times, I laugh, perhaps out of not knowing what to expect next or how to react in awkward situations. This has gotten me into trouble more times than not!

About a year ago, some friends (Ellen and Jose) gave us a Chihuahua named Taco. The stipulation was that Taco would come and visit them whenever we do. Ellen and I were considering doing a business so we had been meeting weekly. On this day, we had a lunch meeting at her house with two businessmen.

She had lived in New Orleans for a decade or so practicing law. Her Deep South, New Orleans accent is the sophisticated version of a southern accent and her artsy personality can make her seem somewhat eccentric. This is partly due to the multiple artistic projects she has going at any given time. They are redoing a mansion and there is always something in the works. Ellen loves to cook and it is not unusual for us to spend Sunday afternoons cooking up a myriad of foods, while listening to Southern Jazz and drinking wine.

        At some point, they decided to get some chickens – twenty-nine! Visions of fresh eggs and poultry must have danced in her head enough to convince her that having any chickens at all, let alone twenty-nine; in the city would not be problem. And for the most part, it wasn’t, except for a time or two when the chicks suffered some ill-fated death. Ellen and her daughters would be so heart broken that I would wonder if it was worth having all those fricken’ chickens.

On that day, we had just finished a nice lunch, then went out to the back yard. We were standing in a circle talking when I noticed a dead, half-grown chicken lying behind Ellen. I looked at her sweet face happily chatting with the men and realized that, at any second, she would turn around and see the dead chick and her world would come crashing down. Suddenly, that old awkwardness overtook me. I pretended to be occupied with something else and turned my back, laughing nervously, waiting for the inevitable “OOOOOOH!!! NOOOOOO!!!!

      

When it came, I turned back around and was horrified to see Ellen walking across the yard to the garbage can with the dead chick that resembled a rubber chicken, it's head and legs dangling. It was obvious she was trying to control her emotions to keep the meeting professional.

After a few minutes she refocused but I was still trying to gain control of myself. My wide eyes and tight lips, to those who know me well, are the tell-tale signs that I am trying not to laugh. Suddenly I looked behind a bush and spotted another dead chicken!

       Now I was thinking, “OOOOH NOOOO!!” Again, there was the agony of awkwardness, wondering when she would notice. I wandered from the group pretending to be distracted. It was harder to control myself because it just went from bad to worse! I heard a gasp, then “NOOO! NO, NO, NOOOO!” At this point, my legs were twisted into pretzels and moving was not an option, lest I pee my pants! After about two minutes, I got a grip enough to nonchalantly turn around and act like I was just tuning in. There was Ellen, holding another rubber-looking, dead chicken. This time, she noticed two bloody prick marks on its neck, gasped and said, “Look! Some type of animal must have gotten them!”

I looked at the marks and, to my horror, realized they were suspiciously about the size of Taco’s fangs!!! I looked at Taco who was standing innocently at our feet and thought, “Why that little butt-hole killed them!” As commotion swirled around me, I tried hard to make eye contact with Taco by borrowing holes in him with my eyes. I'd hoped he would read my telepathic message; “I know it was YOU and you are SO dead when we get out of this mess!!!” My knees began to shake as I waited for someone else in the group to come to the same conclusion!

        Once again, Ellen walked across the yard and threw the half grown, rubber looking, dead chick into the garbage. I didn’t dare make eye contact with anyone but, like everyone else, kept hemming and hawing saying, “Hmmm! Geeeee!!! I don’t knooooow!!!” Still trying to look somewhat distracted, I sent a text to Les, who was at work: “TACO KILLED TWO OF THEIR CHICKENS!!!” While Ellen and one man discussed it like a ‘Who dunnit’ murder mystery’, the other guy and I walked around looking at potential solar panel sites in their ‘L’ shaped yard.

We rounded a corner when, ‘What to our wondering eyes should appear?’ Another dead chicken lying

near!    My tongue grew numb and my arms and legs began tingling, as I felt like Thelma and Louise, only it was “Taco and Meeze!” It just kept going from bad to worse, with Taco’s serial killing spree and me fighting to keep from laughing hysterically and looking like I thought it was funny!   I excused myself and ran to the house, then into the bathroom to call Les. In a high-pitched whisper, I explained the situation. In his calm, rational voice, he informed me that I had to go out and tell her about the 3rd dead chicken! The more nervous I got, the more I laughed hysterically and could not bring myself to leave the bathroom. The last words he said were, “Honey, it sucks to be you! Now do the right thing!” Click…

This would be what Kare looked like on the phone

Hoping for advice more to my liking, I called my sister Kare. I was laughing so hard I was crying. Panicked, she yelled, “MARE!!! WHAT IS WRONG?!?!?!?” In the same high-pitched, panicked whisper, I told her the situation and that I was locked in the bathroom unable to muster the guts to go out, let alone tell Ellen my suspicions about Taco or that there is a 3rd dead chicken! Ellen never suspected the little bugger and that made it harder! By the time we hung up, Kare was laughing so hard that she too, was crying. Her last words were, “It sucks to be you!!!” ‘Twice in one day! I’m so dead!’

After gaining enough composure to go back out, I found a neighbor had joined the group. Ellen was telling him about the two dead chickens and my ears began to grow hot. Not that I would not have told her; just not in the heat of the moment! The last thing I want to do when someone is on the ledge is to push them off! But, at that moment, my mind began to black out and I thought I was going to pass out!! Then I remembered a technique to avoid fainting: Wiggle your toes! My toes wiggled with fury to help me to stay conscious and I began weighing my options. “Perhaps passing out is my ticket out!” If I did, they would panic and call an ambulance. Then when I regained consciousness, I could continue to fake it until being carried away on a stretcher. Surely my ill health would trump the chickens or, at the very least, get me the hell out of there!    

       Then the man blurted the inevitable words: “That little dog right there has been chasing them!” With a look of total disbelief and shock, Ellen looked at Taco like he was the Easter Bunny! “Perhaps she won’t believe him!” I thought. Yet, her trusting, innocent eyes turned to knowing shock! Then she said, “TACO!!! You cannot come back here anymore until these chickens grow up and can kick your butt!” I took momentary refuge by taking Taco to the car. The problem was, I was laughing uncontrollably and the more frustrated I got with myself, the worse it got. This probably gave Taco the message that his antics were cute.

        After regaining some semblance of control, I started back to the crowd when I heard the next gasp; this time, more like a scream! “Another one! OOOH! TACOOOOO!!!” ‘She just saw the 3rd one!’ I thought. Though I wouldn’t have chosen to bring him there in the first place, I felt like a big Ass! I tried to find the words to apologize but didn’t trust myself as nervous laughter simmered just beneath the surface. I knew it was inappropriate but just couldn’t help it so I remained silent!

After nearly ten minutes of trying to regroup, the meeting continued; she, talking to one man, me to the other. As he explained the options of panel placements, I glanced over his shoulder and was horrified to notice yet a fourth dead chicken! At this point, I began laughing hysterically. The man turned to see the chicken and did the same! We hid around the corner laughing for about five minutes as that same high-pitched hysteria took over and we wondered, “How many more?!?!?” I secretly wished he would cover my butt and chuck it over the fence into the yard of the neighbors behind Ellen. I explained that I didn’t think it was funny that the chickens had died, rather the awkwardness of it all, start-to-end! He admitted he had been stifling his own laughter.

Ellen did find it and we had yet, another several awkward moments. I wondered, ‘Whatever happened to the concept of desensitization?’ Was there any point where it would not be awkward anymore? Where I could not laugh and be like, “Oh yeah! Guess what? Another dead chicken! Darn that Taco!”

My saving grace was that Ellen loved Taco, perhaps, more than I did and it was she who always asked me to bring him, even after that. She never blamed me or pointed the finger. I knew that day that I loved Ellen even more. I later told her of my lifelong struggle, along with my suspicions about Taco early on, and we both got a good laugh and still laugh about it. I am convinced that if it was any other way, or perhaps someone other then Ellen, the friendship would have been terminated right there!

        That day I realized something: All those years of working on our shortcomings, trying to get to the next level of personal growth, can come crashing down in an instant! In the wrong circumstances, those traits that we work so hard to overcome can pay us a visit at the most inconvenient times!