Oddly, neither my dog Sam nor my cat Elsa shows the slightest interest in the chickens and ducks who come to visit us regularly.

Amusingly, though, Elsa was daintily walking across the road the other day, as cats do, and a hen began to follow her. Elsa picked up her pace and began to trot, and then began to run. She didn’t like having a chicken on her butt.

But when she couldn’t shake the bird, she spun on her heels and became a whirling ball of claws and teeth. That hen flapped its wings and flew over the hedge to its own house so fast you might almost have thought The Wizard of Oz had whipped up a tornado.

Elsa still ignores the chickens, but I think they’re keeping a more respectful distance from her.

Here we have Elsa letting Sam know that keeping his own distance is the better part of valor. ;-)

Writer. Runner. Marine. Airman. Former LGBTQ and HIV activist. Former ActUpNY and Queer Nation. Polyglot. Middle-aged, uppity faggot. jamesfinnwrites@gmail.com