Grilled Chickens

Thursday night was a little weird. I'm driving down the street to my house and notice that the Commander (my motorhome) was missing. I called the cops and they tell me it's been towed for 72 hour parking. Fuck, the cops are sneaky in this neighborhood. Over in North Park they would post a notice or mark my tires. I check every day and didn't see anything. Sigh. Expensive reminder that I need to move the Commander more often.

I'm all freaked out about that so, I decide to go relax and grill up some dinner. I go out back and let the chickens out of the pen and light up the grill. I brought out some meal worms for the chickens and they are fighting each other to get one. Sparky can tell there are treats, so he comes up to me too, like, hey! where are my treats? So I go in the house to get some kitty treats for him. He is still a little bent out of shape because the chickens are getting something special that he can't have.

It's duskish, that time when they begin to seek out high areas to roost on. My chicken breast is cooking away on the grill and all of a sudden the Marans hops up onto the side of the grill. Fuck. I yell at her and she jumps down, then Freerange Molly decides to see what's going on up there and hops up too. I quickly herded them back into the run. Stupid damn chickens. I touched the edge they sat on and it was pretty darn hot. I picked Molly up and took a look at her feet. They didn't look cooked, and neither of the chickens seemed to be limping, so I guess they are OK. Scared the shit out of me though. From now on, the chickens stay in the run when the grill is on.

Later that night, I look out my door and see an opossum nosing around the chicken run. The chickens are safely tucked away in the Eglu for the night, and the opossum looks more interested in the spilled chicken feed than the chickens, but still. Opossums, ew. I yelled at it and it took off along the fence into the neighbor's yard. The neighbor's yard where Sparky goes.

I got a little worried about him and called him to come home. Well, I get no answer, and he doesn't come back. I know, cat. They don't come when you call. But Sparky almost always comes home when I call him. My neighbor is out, so I can't go over and check for him. This has been a very stressful night of a stressful week, so I'm a little stressed out. I'm imagining the opossum has fucked up my little Sparkypants and he is over there bleeding to death or something and I can't get at him. I spend the next 45 mins or so calling him and trying to see him through the fence and just generally freaking out. eventually I go back in the house to try to calm down.

I look out the door a little later and see the lights on at my neighbor's house, so I go over and ask her if I can go look for him. He was just sitting there in the yard staring at this strange ginger tabby that I haven't seen before. He seemed very freaked out and was clingy for the rest of the evening. I'm not sure what went on over there, whether it was the opossum or the ginger cat, or some combo. I think we were both glad to be home together. Pets. I know he is just a dumb cat, but I don't know what I would do if something bad happened to him. Luckily I don't have to find out right now.