th1b.taylor
Member
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Once upon a time I was a member of the Glory Bound Express Prison Ministry Team, when I was able to do that. One Summer Sunday Afternoon I was in route to my home in my ford Ranger and I had been driving that truck long enough that my Japanese Air Conditioner Pump had failed and costing more than the truck was worth, I had my Texas Style 255 Air Conditioner operating, two windows down and traveling fifty-five miles per hour.
As I traveled along, going south on Interstate 45 from the Walls Unit in Huntsville, Texas I heard a strange click, click, clicking noise. I looked all over the inside of my Ford Pickup that was really a Mazada 2300 with Ford Emblems glued to it... but I could not find the source of the noise.
Now, finding the source of a thing is important, I learned that, right off, when I was in Aviation School, in Fort Rucker, Alabama, learning to be a H13 and HU1 (Huey) Mechanic. So I persisted in looking and it occurred to me to look outside the window and sure enough... right there, beside my Driver's Door, running it's heart out, was a Black with gray spots was a Dominicker Chicken. Now she was a Dominicker Hen but she was not some ordinary Dominicker Hen, no... this was a Three legged Dominicker Hen and all three of her little legs were pumping so hard I expected to see steam, smoke or something blowing out of some release mechanism... somewhere on her body.
But just then I thought to myself, “It ain't dignified for a chicken, a stupid chicken, to be out running my pickup truck.” I stepped on the accelerator, carefully, I didn't want to speed to much and I took it up to sixty-five mile per hour. Sure I had lost THAT chicken I grinned until about ten seconds later. Ten seconds later I hear that noise but louder and faster. I looked down to the highway out of my window and sure enough, there she was so I speeded up to seventy-five miles an hour.
This time I tried to be more cautious but about twenty seconds, there it was, louder and faster and I didn't even look this time... I was mad and I opened up the accelerator and I noticed my V6 pegged the Speed-o at eighty-five and kept going some past that. I knew then, I had that chicken beat. Then about thirty-five seconds later, there was that noise again, louder and faster but there it was and I looked over the edge of the door, there she was, head lowered, neck stretched further than I thought any chicken, 'specially a hen, coulod stretch, wings lowered slightly and strung out to the back, plum past her tail and her little legs were pumping so fast they had plum disappeared! And ever so often a feather would loose it's grip and blow off, lost in the wind.
Well I thought, any chicken that fast deserves my respect and I slowed a little and that hen pulled over in front of me and I followed 'til she exeited the Interstate, I followed. At the farm to Market Road she turned right and I followed her until she turned into a farm, there, and I turned too. But I looked and I looked but I coulod not find that Dominicker chicken.
I went up to the Farm House and then, not seeing anyone I knocked on the door. When the Farmer appeared I said, “I think you're going to think I've lost it but I followed a Three Legged Dominicker Hen south down IH 45 'til she led me to your farm but I lost her...... do you know anything about that hen?”
He, then, assured me, “Why of course I do. Three years or so ago Missy Molly kept a hughe flock of all kinds of brown layers and the wife and I, loving Double Yolk Eggs, would buy several dozen of them a week from her, when one day she asked if we could help her, for free, to consume some, just as, fresh eggs she could not find a market for and her and her family could not consume them all.”
He continued, “Those Brown Eggs was the lumpy, ugliest, things a man has ever seen but they was, sure enough good and the wife and I thought we should hatch some of those eggs to see if a new breed of chicken could get started. Well, those eggs, every one of them hatched out Dominicker Chickens. Not ordinary Dominicker's but three legged Dominicker Chickens.”
By this time I was a gasp and struggling to hold onto the post holding the roof up over the porch but I managed a question, “Well, where is that chicken then?”
He began again, “You got to hear all of this but that hen will be roosted out behind the house with the rest of those Three Legged Hens and their Three Legged Rooster.” Without pause he continued, “My wife and I thought on how many people it is that love Chicken Leggs and Thighs and that there was an extra leg and a thigh on every one of these hens and if we was careful, why we could be Chicken Based Millionaires. We been at it long enough now that we record having foru hundred and thirty-four of those hens.”
I was going crazy to know, so I asked him, “So, can I ask, are those chickens good to the taste?”
He said, “Danged it I know, I cain't catch one.”
Once upon a time I was a member of the Glory Bound Express Prison Ministry Team, when I was able to do that. One Summer Sunday Afternoon I was in route to my home in my ford Ranger and I had been driving that truck long enough that my Japanese Air Conditioner Pump had failed and costing more than the truck was worth, I had my Texas Style 255 Air Conditioner operating, two windows down and traveling fifty-five miles per hour.
As I traveled along, going south on Interstate 45 from the Walls Unit in Huntsville, Texas I heard a strange click, click, clicking noise. I looked all over the inside of my Ford Pickup that was really a Mazada 2300 with Ford Emblems glued to it... but I could not find the source of the noise.
Now, finding the source of a thing is important, I learned that, right off, when I was in Aviation School, in Fort Rucker, Alabama, learning to be a H13 and HU1 (Huey) Mechanic. So I persisted in looking and it occurred to me to look outside the window and sure enough... right there, beside my Driver's Door, running it's heart out, was a Black with gray spots was a Dominicker Chicken. Now she was a Dominicker Hen but she was not some ordinary Dominicker Hen, no... this was a Three legged Dominicker Hen and all three of her little legs were pumping so hard I expected to see steam, smoke or something blowing out of some release mechanism... somewhere on her body.
But just then I thought to myself, “It ain't dignified for a chicken, a stupid chicken, to be out running my pickup truck.” I stepped on the accelerator, carefully, I didn't want to speed to much and I took it up to sixty-five mile per hour. Sure I had lost THAT chicken I grinned until about ten seconds later. Ten seconds later I hear that noise but louder and faster. I looked down to the highway out of my window and sure enough, there she was so I speeded up to seventy-five miles an hour.
This time I tried to be more cautious but about twenty seconds, there it was, louder and faster and I didn't even look this time... I was mad and I opened up the accelerator and I noticed my V6 pegged the Speed-o at eighty-five and kept going some past that. I knew then, I had that chicken beat. Then about thirty-five seconds later, there was that noise again, louder and faster but there it was and I looked over the edge of the door, there she was, head lowered, neck stretched further than I thought any chicken, 'specially a hen, coulod stretch, wings lowered slightly and strung out to the back, plum past her tail and her little legs were pumping so fast they had plum disappeared! And ever so often a feather would loose it's grip and blow off, lost in the wind.
Well I thought, any chicken that fast deserves my respect and I slowed a little and that hen pulled over in front of me and I followed 'til she exeited the Interstate, I followed. At the farm to Market Road she turned right and I followed her until she turned into a farm, there, and I turned too. But I looked and I looked but I coulod not find that Dominicker chicken.
I went up to the Farm House and then, not seeing anyone I knocked on the door. When the Farmer appeared I said, “I think you're going to think I've lost it but I followed a Three Legged Dominicker Hen south down IH 45 'til she led me to your farm but I lost her...... do you know anything about that hen?”
He, then, assured me, “Why of course I do. Three years or so ago Missy Molly kept a hughe flock of all kinds of brown layers and the wife and I, loving Double Yolk Eggs, would buy several dozen of them a week from her, when one day she asked if we could help her, for free, to consume some, just as, fresh eggs she could not find a market for and her and her family could not consume them all.”
He continued, “Those Brown Eggs was the lumpy, ugliest, things a man has ever seen but they was, sure enough good and the wife and I thought we should hatch some of those eggs to see if a new breed of chicken could get started. Well, those eggs, every one of them hatched out Dominicker Chickens. Not ordinary Dominicker's but three legged Dominicker Chickens.”
By this time I was a gasp and struggling to hold onto the post holding the roof up over the porch but I managed a question, “Well, where is that chicken then?”
He began again, “You got to hear all of this but that hen will be roosted out behind the house with the rest of those Three Legged Hens and their Three Legged Rooster.” Without pause he continued, “My wife and I thought on how many people it is that love Chicken Leggs and Thighs and that there was an extra leg and a thigh on every one of these hens and if we was careful, why we could be Chicken Based Millionaires. We been at it long enough now that we record having foru hundred and thirty-four of those hens.”
I was going crazy to know, so I asked him, “So, can I ask, are those chickens good to the taste?”
He said, “Danged it I know, I cain't catch one.”