It’s one of the great moments in movie history. Burgess Meredith playing Mickey Goldmill, Rocky’s manager and trainer, takes Rocky and a chicken to the alley behind the gym. Burgess throws the chicken down and demands that Rocky catch it. “If you can catch this, you can catch greased lightning” says Meredith.
I too can catch greased lightning…I found out today. I’m so proud of myself. But I’m getting ahead of myself.
If you’ve been following this blog (and stats say that you and about 17,000 other people are), then you know that Brendan has left town…gone to Chicago for PaPa Fest. He left James and me in charge of the farm.
Yah, I don’t need to continue…you can see which way THIS is shaping up! But for the half dozen or so folks who haven’t got a clue what’s about to happen, I’ll continue.
Brendan created a “chicken tractor”. This is a wood and fence contraption that allows the chickens to have some mobility without being vulnerable to attacks by foxes, coyotes or wild dogs. Because chickens will eat every piece of grass and bug they can reach, the chicken tractor needs to be moved daily.
James and I moved the chicken tractor. Never, NEVER, NEVER park the chicken tractor over ruts created by driving a tractor across wet, muddy farmland. The chickens found the gaps (hell, how could they NOT find the gaps…they were big enough to drive a Freightliner with a reefer through) and they were off like the opening of the Kentucky Debry. Matter-of-fact, as the chickens broke free, I could’ve sworn I heard Jim McKay yell from his heavenly ring-side-seat….”THEY’RE OFF!”
James grabbed the net. I grabbed the camera. James chased one chicken counter-clockwise around the chicken tractor. I ran around the chicken tractor clockwise…bound and determined to get a picture. James was thinking of how to get the chickens back into the chicken tractor…I was thinking Pulitzer Prize winning photograph.
The chickens were caught. Herded up…rounded up…captured…bagged and tagged… We caught them because we’re men…MEN I TELL YOU! We have superior intelligence, cunning and opposable thumbs! Being the chicken rustlers that we are, we stood around and swapped our lies…er, ah…stories, yah STORIES. We spoke reverently about the one that almost got away. We patted each other on the back for our bravery and our staying power.
And to quote Ben Cartwright, “Thus ends another day on the Ponderosa“.
