The trials and tribulations of driving with chickens

I laughed out loud as I read about Kenny’s adventures with chickens the other day.  He lost a couple of his small flock, and drove to a dealer to get replacements.

I pulled into the place, told the kid what I wanted, and he netted me 2 pullets … He put them in a raggedy box and folded the lid shut. I paid him and thanked him for his time.

Anyways, I turned on the stereo and headed for home. It was a beautiful day, nice and cool, and all was right in my world – until those ****ing chickens decided to make a break for it. They didn’t just find a way and crawled out, it was like somebody hit a switch because those mother****ers just exploded out of that box as I was tooling on down the road at 60 mph singing along to David Allen Coe with my driver’s side window open.

So here I am, trying to bat those bitches back into the back seat, trying to steer and roll my window up all at the same time down this curvy hilly road, cussing to beat the band. I finally found a stretch of road with a shoulder, so I pulled over and jumped out, then opened the back door and climbed in trying to corner these two birds and not being very successful. I’m starting to get frustrated and I look behind me and I’ll be damned if a deputy hadn’t pulled up behind me with his lights flashing.

I climbed out of the truck, ****ing chicken feathers in my beard, and he asked me just what in the hell was going on? I explained what was happening and he came over and looked inside, started laughing and climbed back into his Explorer and drove off. Hell, I could’ve used a hand here, partner.

There’s more at the link.

I’m not surprised the deputy didn’t bother to write Kenny a ticket.  It wasn’t worth it.  It was only a poultry offense, after all.

Peter