You should pay me, cuz I got your back

Today started out as most days do; I got up with the sun to feed hungry critters and unleash the chickens and ducks upon the backyard. As I was filling feeders and dispensing morning pets, my chores were disturbed by a loud racket coming from the vicinity of the heat pump. (I had to ask Gene what it's called, since I usually refer to it as the big ugly box with the fan that runs the AC). Since we'd paid it off mere months ago, I figured now was the time it would decide to break down in some spectacular and expensive fashion, so I called out a service tech. Of course, the noise stopped once the tech got here, and no matter what he did he couldn't convince the machine to make the noise again. He kept asking all sorts of pesky questions, like "What exactly did it sound like?" to which I would reply, "It sounded like the exact opposite of how it sounds right now." It was really difficult to concentrate on what he was saying, because out of the corner of my eye I could see Sean Paul repeatedly trying to ambush him. I ended up having to stand out there for two hours, lest the poor tech be on the receiving end of some rooster beat down. I didn't want to alarm the guy by warning him about the attack rooster, since he would either decide to leave before fixing the problem or start to draft his chicken-injury lawsuit in his head. I just hovered in the background while he worked, discretely tossing oats and other delicious snacks in Sean Paul's general direction to keep him distracted. I'm pretty sure the service tech made a note in my file that I'm nuts.

 

Sean Paul has been an absolute beast lately. He, King Julian, and Rutger are still having their battle for alpha status, and to make matters worse, the chick with the back injury has also grown into a rooster. Sinbad found his crow two days ago, and it is the worst crow ever. It sounds like what would emit from a backed up garbage disposal. The first time I heard him do it, I ran over to him because I thought he was about to hack up a furball. Anyway, with so much rooster testosterone dousing the backyard, Sean Paul has been a bit on the grumpy side. I was quite proud of myself yesterday when I bent over to scoop out the last of the cracked grain for their morning snack, and he launched himself at my face. I calmly lifted the garbage can lin I was holding and wielded it gladiator style, knocking him right out of the air. I was proud of myself right up to the point when I started dancing around him to celebrate my dominance and he attached himself to my leg.