The wickedest whippet again…

I am a slow learner and it seems my dog is not.

Although I know she can jump on to the kitchen counter I have failed to realise that she has the capacity to do more than just that and she has. She has gone further in her never ending quest for mayhem and destruction and of course her pursuit of food than I ever imagined possible.

I am not saying she can now open the fridge door and help herself, a trick I am sure she will reveal at a later date, no, now she’s doing something just as bad. Not satisfied with leftovers on the kitchen counter, my whippet has learned that the food on the cooker is also up for grabs.

At present she’s not actually going for food on the boil so to speak but she is taking the food left in the pans. Fair enough I hear you say if you will leave food on the cooker.

But what if I were to tell you the pots and pans have their lids firmly on? What if I were to tell you she has learned to take the lids off before helping herself and what if I were to tell you that she actually chooses what she wants to help herself to?

What then!?

The little blighter jumps on the counter, stalks over to the cooker and lifts the lids on all the pots and pans there ignoring the veggies, but failing to put the lids back on, and just opts for things like stew and boiled chicken.

And how do I know this? Because although she may be clever, she is not clever enough and I found the remains of the chicken in her den under the foot stool along with the shells of six eggs and a rather battered egg box.

God how I hope she’s sick!

The man who was afraid of chickens….

I have just found the man from the electricity board in the small barn sitting on top of all the building paraphernalia surrounded by about forty chickens. He’s a gibbering wreck and has obviously been shouting for ages as his voice is quite hoarse.
I can’t understand why I didn’t hear him but there again it could be because I had the radio on very loud in my office so that I wouldn’t be able to hear Dear Charlie throwing up next door. Dear Charlie says he’s a bit of a bell weather when it comes to bad food and glares are me balefully as if it was my fault he’s got food poisoning. I haven’t so it can’t have been anything I cooked. I blame it on all that popcorn he ate when we went to the cinema on Sunday. He was most beastly and ate the majority of it himself so that by the time the Movie started there wasn’t a scrap to be had.
Meanwhile back to the man who came to read the meter. I only discovered him when I noticed out of the corner of my eye Ollie my white cockerel running across the lawn as if the wrath of God were after him.
Obviously I thought something dreadful had happened to the chickens – foxes, Hen Harriers, the dreaded mink! Switching off the radio I could hear a faint: HELP! So dashing outside I was confronted with a gaggle of chickens and a very flustered cockerel all darting in and out of the barn.
I ventured inside and there he was. A man afraid of chickens. I helped him down and shooed the girls away. Ollie was being most annoying and kept flapping at me while the man tried to hide behind me – I got quite cross and was about to tell the silly man off when I noticed that he had gone very, very white! Thinking that he needed to sit down I bundled him into his car and called the chickens to me. Biddable things they followed me to the grain bin for some food.
I was just returning to apologise for my chicken’s behaviour and explain it was because they thought he was one of the builders who always feeds them his sandwiches – he [the builder] hates the way his wife makes them but hasn’t the heart to tell her after 10 years of marriage! He has a standing order at the Village Shop for prawn cocktail ones - when to the screeching of tyres and the grating of gears I saw the meter man leave in a cloud of dust down the drive. I have no idea if he did his job or not but I don’t think he’s coming back again in a hurry.