As some of you know from facebook or my newsletter that my dogs escaped out the front gate a few weeks ago and promptly killed a chicken across the road.
We settled affairs with the neighbors and enjoyed chicken pizza that night.
Well, Doug and I celebrated our 14th anniversary this last Tuesday, and we had nice relaxing plans.
Our team member offered to keep all the kids for the night, so we could stay out late if we wanted or sleep in, if we wanted.
I went to drop them off at 4pm, and I stayed to visit a while.
Doug had been called to town by a man who said he wanted to give Doug a gift for being such a good friend.
When Doug got back, I still had not returned, but he called to inform me he was bringing home a large rooster.
What I didn’t know is that Doug had to go back to town, so he left the rooster on the porch so the dogs couldn’t get him, chained up the door, and he went off for another errand (he was trying to get me high-speed internet for my anniversary present).
When I walked home about 25 minutes later, I could see feathers through the papyrus mats that sort of hide our yard from the road.
I started yelling at the dogs, and Lee quickly ran away, knowing he was in trouble, but not Matata.
I got in the yard, popped both dogs, and carried the limp body to the porch.
The dogs had worked at the gate and wiggled the chain lose, somehow.
I was so mad.
I put the bird in a bucket and texted Doug, “Bird is dead.”
When Doug got home, we walked to a nearby restaurant to eat, leaving the dead bird in the bucket on a better-chained up porch, and waited for our night watchman to arrive.
After dinner, which surprising only took 30 minutes to cook and cost us only $7.00 total, we walked back home, and asked the night watchman if the meat was salvageable.
He thought parts of it were, so I went to work boiling lots of water so he could get the feathers off.
As he worked on the bird, Doug and I got cleaned up and ready to vegetate on the couch watching movies.
When the bird was ready, I put it on the stove to boil, and went back to the movie.
Later I heard gurgling, and I asked Doug if he thought it was raining outside.
Nope.
Then I smelled something and wondered if Patrick was burning trash.
Then Doug said, “Chicken.”
I ran to the kitchen and all but a few droplets of water had boiled out of the pot, hence the gurgling.
Instead of being upset at myself, which I should have been, it just made me madder at the dogs. It is such a crazy habit that proud people always look for people/things to blame except themselves.
I took the smoking chicken out, put it in a covered bowl to hide the smell, and stuck it in the fridge.
I put water in the pan to boil away the blackened mess, promised Doug I would set my timer on my watch, and we finally went back to watching the movie.
Gurgling.
I looked at my watch. Yes, I had set the timer for 20 minutes, but I never hit “START!”
I am such an idiot!
The pot was dry again.
This time, I filled the pot with water, turned the fire off, and resigned myself to the fact I was going to leave the pot for Alice to clean in the morning. Happy Anniversary to me!
On pizza night, we shared our barbecue chicken pizza with the watchman that had actually done all the work to clean it. He said it was good.
And by the way, two days later, 5 men in blue did in fact come and hook up some high-speed internet in our house. We can skype from our own home! Thanks for the anniversary presents, Doug.
The internet and the chicken.
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