Back to rooster-gate.
Since a few days ago when Clooney was set free by…um…an interested party. Yeah, an interested party. He has continued to crow and roam the yard with the other chickens. Hubby just glares at him, unsure of what the next step should be. I know he wants to cook him. And I’m sure a nice looking rooster like Clooney would be a tasty meal, but it sort of makes me feel like one of the Donner party. Can I really resort to eating my friends? I don’t think so. It’s not like he’s a nameless, faceless chicken. I’ve known him since he was a chick. I watched him grow into the pain in the ass cock he is today. How could I enjoy having him for dinner?
In a very snarky turn, the husband has said to put it to a vote. Does Clooney live or die? Will he roam and crow, or end up in a bowl?
Come on people…tell me what you really think.
Until the next time…I’ll be waiting for your thoughts.