The Finale of Harry the Rooster

When Joey read through my blogs, he paused at the end of the one involving Harry, the chicken, "Why didn't you finish the story?" he asked. 

"What do you mean?" I responded.
"Remember, the chicken was blee-"
I cut him off as the memory washed over me. "OH MY GOSH, I FORGOT TO TELL THEM THE FINAL PART OF THE STORY!" I put that part in all caps because I actually yelled that. 

Quick Refresher:

Driving down the highway to pick up a katana, a fancy Japanese sword, I purchased for Joey, Lila and I saw a chicken just hanging out. On our way back from the katana purchase, I decided to stop and take pictures of the chicken I named Harriet. Unfortunately, while I took pictures, the car window proved too far open as Lila jumped out of the car and chased Harriet down the side of the road. Lila caught up to Harriett. The two rolled as feathers flew through the air. Two women in a van stopped to help attempt to catch Lila. Harriett slipped under the woman's van. I grabbed Lila and placed her back in the car, rolled up the window and -


Without further delay, the final part of Harriett/Harry, the Chicken/Rooster - 


I crouched down, looking under the van of a strange woman to see Harriett, frightened for her life. 

I knew I needed to get Harriett out from the bottom of the van. Formulating a plan, I pulled a sweatshirt out from my trunk. I gently tossed the sweatshirt at Harriett to see if she attacked it. If she attacked it, I would pull the sweatshirt back and wait for animal control to attempt a Harriett rescue. If she was calm, I would put my arms in the sleeves of the sweatshirt and gently slide her out from under the car. 

My plan proved successful. Harriet didn't flinch at the sight of the sweatshirt. Therefore the plan continued. I nervously placed my arms in the sleeves and reached out to Harriett, hoping she decided pecking the living daylights out of my arms seemed pointless.   

Gently sliding Harriett out from under the van, I did my best not to let my arms shake with trepidation.  As I pulled Harriett out, I realized she was a he as this was definitely a rooster and therefore became Harry. 

Until that day, I had never held a rooster. However, I am told it doesn't usually go nearly as smoothly as this went since roosters have spurs on their feet. I attribute this calmness to Harry being in a state of shock. First a crazy dog goes after him, he chicken-runs for his life, the best thing to witness, the crazy dog, that would be Lila, rolls him, feathers fly through the air, clucks of terror sound, and he makes his way to a safe spot, underneath a van.

During this ordeal, one woman phoned Animal Control. 

As I held Harry, I noticed a trail of blood making its way down my arm. I gently searched Harry trying to find the source of the blood. I was unable to locate the wound. 

As I continued to search, an Animal Control truck arrived. It pulled off the side of the highway. I carried Harry to the truck. However, as I walked, the sight of a ditch went unnoticed as Harry blocked it from my view. I stumbled in the ditch, my right ankle rolled, I lost my balance, pulling Harry close to me. BUT I DIDN'T FALL DOWN! Well done self.

I regained my composure, my ankle throbbing. I tried to step towards the truck, but applying pressure on my right foot sent searing pain through my body. Rather than come to my aide, the animal control man just watched me. Thanks so much for that Mr. Animal Control Man. 

With rooster in arm, I HOPPED over to the truck.  That's right, picture me, carrying a rooster, hopping to the truck. You can stop laughing.  

As I finally reached the Animal Control Man, he was shocked that I held a rooster under my arm without any repercussion from the rooster. 

The Animal Control Man opened a cage in the back of the truck. I placed Harry in the cage. 

Animal Control Man: Are you alright? 
Me: I should be. What is going to happen to Harry?
ACM: Whose Harry?
Me: I pointed to the rooster. 
ACM: You named him? 
Me: Of course. He's bleeding and I can't find the wound.
ACM: Oh - 
Me: What if he needs surgery?
ACM: I don't think our vet has the proper equipment to operate on the rooster.
Me: What if I paid? I can pay for the tiny rooster tools. 
ACM: No, I mean they don't know HOW to operate on a rooster.
Me: I'm sure we can find someone who does. We can google it. 
ACM: Right, we'll look him over and call you. 
Me: -turning to Harry- Goodbye. I love you. 

I know the Animal Control Man was convinced I was a whack-a-doo from the start, but I'm sure proclaiming my love to the rooster gave him even more concern. 

I hopped back to the car, remember - busted ankle, drove back to my apartment and dropped Lila at home. She had enough excitement for one day. I think she would LOVE to have a pet rooster. I then went to the doctor who informed me I had a hairline fracture in my ankle and nicked part of a ligament. I ended up in an air cast for the remainder of the summer. When people asked how I broke my ankle, I simply responded, "an incident with a rooster." The whole story was too much to tell. 

So what happened to Harry?  It turned out the blood I saw was from a small cut Harry had on his foot which Animal Control was able to bandage. The best part was one of the Animal Control workers had a friend who owned a farm, this was common in Southwest Virginia, and they brought Harry to live on it. HOORAY HARRY!

Point of the Story: Finish what you start. 

P.S. Joey loved the sword. He loved the story even better. 

It's Finally Here - The Much Anticipated Blog!

I realized that I will tell one class a story and think I've told every student I teach the story. Then when I go to reference later, three-fourths of my students have no idea what I’m talking about.This has led me here to making a blog. This is where I will post stories I tell to different classes, ensuring we’re all on the same page.

Let’s begin –

The Story of Harry the Chicken (really, a rooster, but we'll get to that)

For our five year anniversary, I wanted to get Joey, my now fiance, back then my boyfriend, a great and different gift. Perusing the internet, I found a katana for sale. A katana is a Japanese Samari Sword. As a kid, Joey as most kids do, played sword fighting with sticks, "how much different could a sword be?" I thought to myself. 

Let's pause right there. This story appears to being going in the direction of severed limbs, accidentally chopping someone's arm off. Don't worry, we're not going anyone near there. Unpause.

This was perfect! The seller was in Pulaski, VA, a 45 minute drive from Virginia Tech. I emailed the seller, we agreed to meet outside a Wendy's. That's a good public location where if it turned out the seller was actually planning to stab me with the katana and then dump me in a ditch, I could instead, run inside the Wendy's, avoid the stabbing, and order a burger. Win-win.

I grabbed Lila, my 30 pound dog, but if my apartment complex asks, she is exactly 24.6 pounds, and not an ounce more, and we headed down to Pulaski. Driving down the highway, our three lanes turned into two lanes, and then into one lane. Driving down the lane, I looked on the shoulder to see a chicken hanging out. "What? Is that a chicken? What's a chicken doing on the side of the road" I said out loud. I then began to laugh because what if the chicken crossed the road? I never imagined that scenario being a real one, but at this very moment, a chicken was possibly about to answer everyone's favorite question. 

I continued driving imagining different reasons for chicken crossing and ultimately decided the chicken would cross if food was on the other side. I reached Wendy's and found the SUV matching the description in the email.

Side note: This is very dangerous to do alone. If you are meeting someone to make a purchase, always go with someone for safety and meet in a very public place. I lucked out and it turned out to be a nice woman, but you never know. 

The woman had explained in the email that the katana just sat around the house, doing absolutely nothing and she decided she'd rather make money off of it. I looked at the katana, not really sure what I was looking for as shockingly I am not a sword expert. The sword was shiny, was pointy, everything you could ever want from a sword.  

I paid the woman and drove back towards Blacksburg. On my way back, who did I run into again? The chicken! Naturally, I stopped to see the chicken. I even took pictures. 

I decided this chicken needed a name. Harriett seemed appropriate. 

As I was taking pictures of Harriett, Lila had her head out of the window of the car watching my movements. She then looked up to see Harriett. Lila had never before seen a creature as this. I imagine Lila's thoughts were along these lines - 

"What is Mom doing? WHAT IS THAT THING? Were those feathers on its body? Why did it walk so funny? I WANT THAT THING! I WILL GET THAT THING!" And with that, she jumped out the window and ran to Harriet. 

As I saw Lila darting full-speed towards the chicken, the sole thought going across my mind was a very calm, "oh no."

The chicken also saw this giant black ball of fur hurling towards it, the chicken began to move in what can best be described as a chicken run. First, its three toes spread apart, its legs lift one at at time, then move forward, followed by its body, yet its head stays back as if it missed the memo from the body that it needs to peace out. 

This is the start of the run, when its toes spread out and it lifts its legs. Off camera is Lila racing towards Harriett. After this picture, I dropped my phone as Harriett, the chicken raced paced me, followed by a thrilled Lila. 

Cars and trucks drove by to possibly the strangest sight they would see that day: me, chasing Lila, chasing the chicken. 

Two women in a van saw this fiasco and stopped to help. Unfortunately this just turned into two women chasing me, chasing Lila, chasing the chicken. 

Trucks honked their horn intrigued by the sight, cars slowed down to process the event. 

Lila caught up to Harriett and rolled her. A giant ball of feathers and dust flew up in the air as Harriett let out a cluck. Luckily, Lila has never been one to bite any animal she has trapped, including multiple squirrels, a groundhog, a bunny rabbit, and countless stray cats. She just wants to chase them, catch them, and stare at them excitedly. I think she also wants them to chase her. They just want to survive. 

Harriet saw the van and slipped under the van, where Lila couldn't reach. I used this opportunity to snatch Lila, put her in the car and close the windows to the point where they were opened just a crack. Lila went nuts running circles in the car. She wanted the feathery thing. 

Now the women were stuck. They couldn't drive off as the chicken had settled under their van. One woman called animal control, perhaps the professionals could handle this. That wasn't a good option in my opinion. 

Instead, I grabbed a sweatshirt and looked under the van. I placed the sweatshirt near the chicken to see if the chicken would attack the sweatshirt. Harriett didn't move. Clearly, Harriett was in a state of shock due to the recent events. 

In a bold and also possibly stupid move, I used the sweatshirt to wrap Harriett up and pulled her gently from underneath the car. 

As I held her in my arms, it dawned on me that this was a rooster, not a chicken. And Harriett turned into Harry. 

The rooster part is pretty obvious in this picture, but in my defense at the time, things were a little bit chaotic. 

Finally, animal control came. I carried Harry over to the Animal Control man. While walking, I didn't see a hole in the ground, and tripped. My ankle rolled, but I clutched tightly on to Harry. I hugged him goodbye as he was placed in a cage. 

A few days later, I called Animal Control. They informed me that Harry was re-homed in Pulaski on a farm. 

...And that is the story of how I broke my ankle. Didn't see that one coming, now did you?