The Song of the Chicken

This morning began like a typical weekday morning chez nous: I woke up , fed the puppy, washed my face, and put on some sweats to go for our morning walk run bird-chasing adventure. We got back to the house, me panting and wheezing, and Nero sitting politely, haunches poised to spring into action at the first sight of his favorite frisbee.

But then, after chasing our beloved pup around the yard a few times (carefully maneuvering the obstacle course he has assembled with the various sticks, logs, and fence pieces he’s dragged around the yard), a beautiful sound rang out through the trees.

Bok bok bok ba-GAWK! Bok bok bok ba-GAWK! Bok bok bok ba-GAWK!

Even Nero stopped his frisbee antics for a moment to have a listen.

It seems a chicken lives in my neighborhood now. I must investigate further. I remain optimistically hopeful that backyard chickens are in my future.

Any readers have any experience with or tips on navigating homeowner’s association rules or county regulations on keeping poultry or livestock in one’s backyard?


One thought on “The Song of the Chicken

  1. […] yet most humbling meal to date. It was delicious. (If only the eggs had come from my own as-of-yet imaginary chickens…) And I thought about how quickly we rely on modern conveniences in this world. Don’t […]

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