Because we are a hospitable people, we took Pawpower to a chicken swap this morning. I was trying to offload some of my tiny adorable roosters. The Bantytown, suffice it to say, is awash with massive amounts of testosterone. Unfortunately people were looking rather than buying, and after a couple hours in the sun with temps climbing we all retired to the Manor, where Pawpower’s guide dog Laveau and my Siddy played and played and played and played. They have really similar play styles, involving lots of hitting other dogs with paws and waving their mouths around and bitey-facing and slamming their bodies into one another, so they were having a really good time.
Except as if it wasn’t bad enough that I kidnapped Pawpower, Laveau then had a good roll in the doggy pool, a small plastic affair for Zille to splash in, and then had a good roll in the dirt afterward and came up grinning and wet and muddy. Luckily there was enough time to let the mud dry and then I broke out the curry comb and the shedding rake and got her respectable-looking again because I would be really horrified if I kidnapped Pawpower again after Amtrak declined to let a muddy dog on the train.
But the people had fun, and the dogs had fun, and I did send one of my spare chickens home with Christine. She took young Galahad off, as she has gold-laced Sebright babies at the moment who will grow up to be adult gold-laced Sebrights with whom Galahad can hang out. And now I am trying to figure out how to drag my husband and Sid down to New Orleans to visit Pawpower, so I can apologize to Mr. Pawpower in person for kidnapping her.
Oh and Daniel refused to let me buy any cuckoo Marans pullets at the swap. I was all “Look! They are stripey! How cute!” and he said “Uh huh” and gave me the look that says “If you think I am building any more chicken pens this month, lady, you are out of your goddamned mind.” But in a loving way. So I have no new chickens.