Doesn't Take Much

It doesn't take much to make me laugh.  It's a hoot every morning when I let the chickens out of the coop.  The Mafia Boys hang around waiting for me to throw down the scratch (they prefer it to the bird seed under the oak).  On some days I'm still in the pen when they fly over the fence, they're that bold.  What cracks me up is the hen who will take on a turkey four times her size and chase him around and finally drive him out.  "All for me, none for you!"

I haven't seen Squint, the ground squirrel I used to squirt with milk, in quite a while.  For that matter, Gary the Gopher hasn't put in an appearance lately, either.  However, there is a mouse named Mini-Squint who joins the tribe for breakfast now.  Mini-Squint also has a bum eye.  It doesn't slow him down in the least, but he keeps his good eye on me while he's munching and slurping.

Bessie Anne is a mellow dog.  She's not a barker, for which I am thankful.  It actually takes quite a  lot to upset her, but there is a ground squirrel close to the house that gets on her very last nerve.  The ground squirrels have an irritating, metallic, repetitive yip used by the look-out.  It goes on and on, and it's bad enough when they're down in the field or by the barn.  Bess often lies by the open front door to catch the breeze and keep an eye on the property.  When the nearby squirrel starts yipping, Bessie will take it as long as she can and then fires off, barking and turning to look at me as if to say, "Can't you hear that?  Do something!  Make it stop!!"  I go to the front door, the squirrel quits, and calm is restored.  For awhile.  I think the squirrel does it just to piss off the dog.

I had sent enough pecan pie home with Tom for his wife and daughter.  He called yesterday to tell me how much he liked it and had saved enough for one more plate.  "Didn't you share that?"  "Ohhellno!  I'm not going to share my pecan pie with anyone!"  Makes me laugh.