Here it is, short and sweet. Chester lost his Pine Ridge Farm privileges. He roosted on the porch, crowing indignantly when we didn't let him in at night, or carry him and pet him. He failed to recognize his chicken-hood and the hood didn't recognize him either. Thinking perhaps the dog was more his style, he followed Hoover, our golden retriever. Chester crowed at random moments jumping in the air, wings flapping, to play. Hoover freaked out, ran, and hid.
The last straw was when he flew at Ryan, attacking with his spurs and beak. After leaving a message on the answering machine, the Big Guy returned him to the neighbor's outdoor kennel. That same week I received a lovely note from Chester's owner apologizing for any damages and wishing us a happy Thanksgiving. Long live Chester the (un-fried? pre-fried?) Chicken!
Perhaps Henny Penny will make an appearance this spring and they'll live happily ever after. One can only hope.
