Category Archives: Fur and feathers flock together.

Things to do with a hire car… #2638

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“Are you coming home from work soon?”

“Yes…” I waited for a supplementary question, “Did you want something?”

“No, I’ll see you soon then.”

I arrived to find a labrador greeting me, which is not unusual, except that we have a brown one and a black one and now here was a blonde one too.

“This is Olsen. Isn’t he lovely? I’ve rescued him.”

Indeed she had rescued him from certain death at the pound…  in a hire car which we had while ours was being repaired post accident…  in a hire car which was due back early in the morning; a hire car with black cloth seats which now looked like a Yeti had rolled in the back.

So off I went to vacuum the car. We can’t get our car off the street as we have a driveway which might once have accommodated Clydesdales but certainly not a car. So time to get the extension cord and take the vacuum out into our busy road and clean the car.

Of course, the lock on the front security grill door had chosen this as the perfect time to jam completely. Therefore out the front window went I with the vacuum cleaner. Were I Sally Pearson, the Olympic hurdler, this might have been simple but, as I am not, parts of me may never articulate quite the same way again.

So on to vacuuming the car to the amusement of traffic driving by… simple.

 

Words to live by…

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Sophie and Jess offer their wisdom aided by the late great blind black Cocker Spaniel, Moby…

Moby: Just because humans put it in the bin, doesn’t necessarily mean that you couldn’t eat it.

Sophie: In fact, don’t assume that something is inedible until you have actually tried it. Who would have known that socks and undies were so tasty? Great texture. The toes and crutch are the best bits.

Moby: You will always regret not stealing that bread if you don’t do it now!

Moby: Any flat (or flatten-able) item on the floor is potentially a dog bed.

Sophie: Any human bed is definitely a dog bed.

Jess: Humans look silly when they have no fur on.

Sophie: … and yet, humans are dirtier and smellier than dogs. They need one or even two baths a day or they start to pong but we can go weeks at a time. Sniff me! Go on, tell me honestly.

Jess: Fresh as a daisy. Actually maybe you sat on a daisy. The other day, I scooted on mint… really fresh… tingly too.

Sophie: You dirty old dog, you… and you’ve been spayed!

Sticking our beaks in.

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Our friend down the road, who is always catching me for a chat when I’m walking the dogs, called me on the phone saying she’d done her back and couldn’t look after the chickens at the local pre-school during the holidays, as she’s agreed to do, and could we help.

“We’ll just bring them home to our girls,” says my partner.

…”but we don’t have a box to put them in”

“Don’t be silly, Gail”

So we drive down the road and find our way into the kindy, into the enclosure (which has a roof just above head height for kindy kids) and proceed to run around bent over at that height, eventually catching them both, one each.

I’m imagining the headlines in the local paper, “School Pets Chook-napped.” Fortunately, we managed to keep hold of them as we came back though all the gates and into the car with she who volunteered us displaying her grip, no doubt practiced from controlling toddlers, to keep both chickens, Snowy and Rosie,  on her lap until we got home, at which point I opened all the gates at home right through to the back, ran back to the car, grabbed Snowy so we could both run quickly to the back chicken area, leaving the car open in the street as we had no spare hands…

“Someone will steal my handbag, Gail”

“Don’t be silly, dear.”

So it would be simple if both lots of chickens get on… but no, Thelma the pecking bitch chicken took one look at Snowy and pounced, so there was now a logistical exercise worthy of tetris:

  1. PLAN: catch Thelma and evict her from her area until the others go to sleep so she can be put in another area with some straw and camp out… not too cold, not raining. Should be fine.
  2. Other chickens go to sleep and are locked in their house.
  3. Put Thelma in another area where there is cover and straw.
  4. Listen to her crow like a rooster for a fair period of time.
  5. SUPPLEMENTARY PLAN: slide door partition across in the middle of one chook house and lock her in one section of the chicken house, but away from the other potential victims who are sleeping, albeit nervously.
  6. Watch Thelma peck aggressively at the wooden partition then hop up on the roosting perch.
  7. I foolishly think, “Ah she’s given up. She’ll sleep now.”
  8. Watch as Thelma launches off the roost, attempting to break through the wooden partition… several repeats.
  9. I wonder if she’ll break her neck… several repeats.
  10. She eventually roosts, possibly concussed.
  11. In the morning I take Thelma out first and lock her in an open area of yard by herself.

It was a long two weeks, but at least Snowy and Rosie settled in well.