In Remembrance of Chuck

Yesterday was a series of unfortunate events with a deceptively smooth beginning. After work, I decided to take my sons to the playground, and everything was sunshine and rainbows—almost literally, since the weather was cool enough to keep us out there for a whole hour. Ted, my little daredevil, bravely climbed up the big kid play set. He sat down at the top of the slide and started scooting down, but when he was a quarter of the way through, fear kicked in, and he scrambled back to the top. Proud mom moment: he conquered his Everest solo!

We had the playground to ourselves, making it a run-and-follow fiesta for Ted, with his brother and me trailing behind in the stroller. We eventually headed home, unloaded the chaos, and released the dogs from their kennels. They lined up at the back door like a canine NASCAR race was about to start. When I opened it, Raya and Arya sprinted straight for our resident troublemaker, Frankie boy. Thinking I should referee whatever mischief was brewing, I followed outside.

That’s when tragedy struck. I had forgotten that I left the chickens out to graze. And just like that, my earlier high deflated faster than a budget balloon at a birthday party. The rooster, Chuck, began flapping his wings protectively as his hens congregated near the gate. But poor Chuck never stood a chance. Frankie, our Staffordshire Terrier, leaped on him, feathers flying everywhere like the world’s saddest pillow fight. Chuck squawked, I screamed, and feathers fluttered as I tried to corral the dogs.

Somehow, I managed to usher all the dogs inside except for Frank and Arya, who galloped to the far side of the yard. Chuck dangled from Frank’s mouth like a feathered scarf, and finally, with my frantic yells, they came inside. When I walked over to Chuck, I found only a heap of feathers and his lifeless body. Tears flowed unbidden as I stood in shock.

Don’t get me wrong, Chuck was a bit of a jerk, but no one deserves an exit like that. Thankfully, my husband arrived just in time. He handled Chuck’s remains while I rounded up the hens and tended to my two screaming children inside. This one’s in memory of Chuck, the not-so-gentle rooster. Let’s hope today is kinder to our feathered friends.