Tropical Clucking

          Why was that human taking pictures of us at
the beach yesterday? Huh, what? Oh, you never notice anything. We were roosted there, minding are own business, then click, click, click. that lady started clicking away.
She was up to something.
You’re so suspicious Henrietta, She was probably just taking pictures of her friend.
Yeah, well, Mr. Cock-a-Doodle-Do, you’re not suspicious enough.

           You strut around like there’s not a thing in the world to worry about. If I didn’t keep my eyes open I don’t know what would become of us. Don’t you remember when animal-control picked-up all the chickens on the island and put us in cages just because we were pooping on their
la-dee-dah lawns.

           Well, we were pooping on their lawns.

Of course we were. Where else should we poop? That’s no excuse for putting us in cages. I don’t know Henrietta? They did give up on that and let us go.
You’re hopeless Cockburn, If I didn’t stay alert some stray dog would have already snatched us up by now.

That lady was up to something. Probably making a photo survey for a new chicken round-up, or some other cockamamie excuse for making trouble.

What’s cockamamie? Does that have anything to do with roosters?

  Clucking cluck, cluck! You’re impossible.








Hermans

Little Nemo in Slumberland