Watch Out For Those Buzzards!
Posted by Ed Williams on: 2005-08-23 21:58:41
One day the hens and rooster were standing about talking, and one of the hens noted just how fortunate they were to live in such splendid conditions. She also noted that a very lonely old buzzard had recently spoken to her, and that she felt very sorry for her.
“Why would you feel sorry for a withered, craggy old she-buzzard?” one of the other hens asked.
“Because,” the caring hen noted, “she’s a dried-up dismal old thing, even her feathers and beak look like they’re dyed, and she loves our coup more than anything in the world. She talks about it all the time, in fact, I can just see in her eyes the immense love she possesses for our home here. In fact, because of that, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. We have more than enough to eat and drink, we have plenty of living space, therefore I think we should invite the lonely old buzzard to live amongst us. She’ll be happy and we’ll have done a good thing.” Without giving it so much as a second thought, the hens and the rooster happily agreed to invite the buzzard to live amongst them.
Problems began the moment the shrewish old buzzard entered the pen. She immediately took a liking to the rooster, and he, abandoning all logic and reason, took a casual liking to her. They could be seen clucking and squawking away at almost all hours of the day or night, and they appeared to be becoming quite close. Naturally, this concerned all of the hens, but they were never ones to interfere in each other’s lives, so they left the mismatched two to coo and wink at each other. This did not turn out to be the best way of handling the situation. Soon, the old buzzard began wanting more and more of the rooster’s time. He quickly started backing away, as he loved time with his hens and had no intention of giving up his friendships with any of them. He also disliked the fact that the old buzzard would squawk about him and their personal business to anyone that would listen, especially the unusual bird that flew overhead from time to time, the mysterious left-winged Macaw. Finally, the rooster got so tired of her squawking that he totally lost interest in the dyed up old buzzard, first he grew silent when in her company, then he finally bid her to leave the pen.
The wicked old buzzard got very upset at this, and immediately flew about the gilded coup, destroying everything that she possibly could. She fouled the water so that none of the chickens could drink it, and she destroyed every nest that she possibly could. Finally, with their patience at a collective end, the hens took charge and deposited the cranky old she-buzzard outside of the coup, and sealed it so that she could never return.
The chickens had a very hard time restoring their coup to its former status. Some things had to be tossed away, some were restored, and some are still being attended to as I scribe the words of this story. And what happened to the miserable old buzzard? Well, she finally started up a little nest of her own way down in the deep, dark woods, far, far away from everyone. She never found another rooster, no hens would play with her, and she found herself spending most all of her time with two aged parrots and one puffed-up goonie bird. They now spend their lives squawking away endlessly in the deep woods where no one ever hears them, no one wants to hear them, and the most important item of discussion they endeavor each day is what the rooster and hens might be up to.
The morals of this story? Really, they’re quite simple. If you want happy, contented chickens, keep misery-ridden old buzzards out of the hen house. If you want to stay a happy rooster, keep away from old buzzards altogether. Just remember that the very worst crap from the coup will always be far, far sweeter than anything a moldy old buzzard can lay before you...
About the Author
Ed’s latest book, “Rough As A Cob,“ can be ordered by calling River City Publishing toll-free at: 877-408-7078. He’s also a popular after dinner speaker, and his column runs in a number of Southeastern publications. You can contact him via email at: ed3@ed-williams.com, or through his web site address at: www.ed-williams.com.