Page 11 of Mother Clucker

“You named the rooster?” Now it was my turn to be surprised.

“Of course. I needed to call him something.” She looked at me like I was the nut.

Hell, maybe I was. I was certainly in the minority around here.

I didn’t tell her we didn’t name our chickens at the ranch. First of all, there were too damn many. Second, it seemed pointless to name them since—you know—they weren’t sticking around long.

Meanwhile, I still didn’t know her name. That was something I’d like to remedy.

“Where’s your car?” I asked, ready to get this rooster rescue started. And honestly, I really couldn’t wait to see what this loose bird had done to the inside of her little car.

It was definitely going to be amusing. At least to me. Her, maybe not so much.

“Right out front.”

“Then come on.” I led the way, figuring she’d follow.

The sun was beating down on the car, so she’d left all four windows cracked an inch. Still, another few minutes and that car would have been beastly hot.

“You’re not supposed to leave live animals in a closed car.”

“I know that. But what was I supposed to do?”

“Take him with you,” I said, matter of factly as I reached for the door handle. The fucker was locked. I turned. “Can you please unlock the doors?”

“Oh, yeah.” She fumbled for her keys while mumbling, “I was only running inside for a minute.”

“It only takes a few minutes.” I glared over my shoulder and saw her scowl.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

Oh, yeah. This was going real well. It seemed the pretty lady and I were destined to be on opposite sides of pretty much any topic we encountered. So much for my asking her out for lunch—or to go anywhere else with me.

She finally clicked the fob and I heard the locks disengage.

The bird was already breathing heavily through his open beak. Probably as much from the stress of trying to get out of the confined space as from the building heat inside.

“Come here, little guy. Did this mean lady lock you in a hot car?” Yeah, I was poking the bear. Yes, I found it amusing.

Now that I saw the bird was okay I figured it didn’t hurt to tease her a bit.

There was a bit of flopping as I kneeled on the driver’s seat and reached into the passenger side to grab him.

I got both hands on him and brought him close to my body. Once I was standing again, I tucked his head beneath my arm. He went still in my grasp.

“He’s a beauty,” I said. And I meant it.

The colors were amazing. On the ranch we tended to raise the breeds that grew big and fast, and they tended to be white. This guy had deep shades of red and blue and green set off by a mixture of light and dark browns.

“Colorful as a peacock, aren’t you, boy? Bet the ladies like all your pretty tail feathers.” I talked as I walked and eventually stood at the door of the shelter.

Anna and Charlie—and the goat—were in the doorway watching the procedure. She jumped to open the door for me, which was good since I kind of had my hands full.

Inside, I glanced around at the assembled group. “So, where do y’all want him?” I asked.

“Oh goodness. I don’t know. I haven’t even tried to call anyone who might know yet. The manager is off this morning.” Anna glanced around her. There wasn’t much more than a counter, a computer, and a couple of chairs.

“Put him down,” Charlie suggested. “There’s not much he can hurt in here.”

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