My life is sometimes like a soap opera, or at least a badly French-dubbed telenovela from Brasil. On today’s segment we find the main character, moi, in a dilemma. I woke up this morning with the intent of packing up a few things in preparation for a quick overnight trip to Sokodé to see Korie off and to welcome Heather back in country. The morning started off pretty normal with the call to prayer waking me up around 5:30am. I lay in bed trying to go back to sleep but to no avail so I went about on my morning business. After getting ready, I started gathering things together, clothes, my computer, etc. I walk into the kitchen, reheat leftovers from the previous night for a quick breakfast before opening my front door where I am greeted by feathers.
Lots of grey and white chicken feathers.
Lying on my front lawn is Swarley with his I-know-I-did-something-bad puppy face next to a dead hen. One of Marc’s fully grown chicken hens. I’ve told you about how Swarley has developed a taste for chicken, evident by the fact that he tore apart and ate all 12 of the baby chicks that Marc’s two hens had worked very hard to produce. It seems that now that he was done with the baby chicks he wanted to move onto bigger and better chickens so-to-speak. Now I don’t know if Marc noticed this or not which is funny because the hen was lying in the grass in front of our houses and he would have had to pass over the dead carcass on the way out the compound door and that in turns means that if he did indeed see the dead hen, he would have woken me up to discuss the issue. Now I have told him time and time again, particularly when the first of the baby chicks started showing up dead that he needed to build a chicken coop. I reasoned that Swarley is a dog and he needs his space to run around and be a dog and we have already tried the whole “let’s tie him up” but it doesn’t work since he just chews through the leash or breaks the chain (yes, for a puppy he is incredibly strong!). So taking the approach that Marc has yet to see the dead hen since he did not wake me up this morning to “talk”, I did the only logical thing: hide the evidence! Using a black sachet as a glove, I grabbed the body by the head and proceeded to throw it outside the compound wall. My plan was to make it look like the hen got out of the compound because someone left the door open (this has happened a few times and I have had to chase the chickens back into the compound) and that one of the neighborhood stray dogs killed the hen for food. And since I don’t have a chain to keep Swarley from attacking the final hen, I locked him in my bathroom with some food and water to give him an alibi. I hope this doesn’t make me an accomplice…
I don’t know if my plan will work but in any case I won’t have to deal with the situation for at least a day until I return. So here’s till tomorrow. *duh duh duh*…
…and such is the days of [my] lives…
-Nikhil
Lots of grey and white chicken feathers.
Lying on my front lawn is Swarley with his I-know-I-did-something-bad puppy face next to a dead hen. One of Marc’s fully grown chicken hens. I’ve told you about how Swarley has developed a taste for chicken, evident by the fact that he tore apart and ate all 12 of the baby chicks that Marc’s two hens had worked very hard to produce. It seems that now that he was done with the baby chicks he wanted to move onto bigger and better chickens so-to-speak. Now I don’t know if Marc noticed this or not which is funny because the hen was lying in the grass in front of our houses and he would have had to pass over the dead carcass on the way out the compound door and that in turns means that if he did indeed see the dead hen, he would have woken me up to discuss the issue. Now I have told him time and time again, particularly when the first of the baby chicks started showing up dead that he needed to build a chicken coop. I reasoned that Swarley is a dog and he needs his space to run around and be a dog and we have already tried the whole “let’s tie him up” but it doesn’t work since he just chews through the leash or breaks the chain (yes, for a puppy he is incredibly strong!). So taking the approach that Marc has yet to see the dead hen since he did not wake me up this morning to “talk”, I did the only logical thing: hide the evidence! Using a black sachet as a glove, I grabbed the body by the head and proceeded to throw it outside the compound wall. My plan was to make it look like the hen got out of the compound because someone left the door open (this has happened a few times and I have had to chase the chickens back into the compound) and that one of the neighborhood stray dogs killed the hen for food. And since I don’t have a chain to keep Swarley from attacking the final hen, I locked him in my bathroom with some food and water to give him an alibi. I hope this doesn’t make me an accomplice…
I don’t know if my plan will work but in any case I won’t have to deal with the situation for at least a day until I return. So here’s till tomorrow. *duh duh duh*…
…and such is the days of [my] lives…
-Nikhil
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