Friday, February 19, 2010

Chicken nurse

One of our chickens, Lunesta, hasn't been feeling well. We're pretty sure she is (or was) egg bound, so we brought her inside, made a little nest for her in the cubby where we set up our cats' drinking fountain and fed her lots of yummy food and privacy. She has started to perk up and is looking better, but tomorrow we're going to find a bird vet to take her to, just in case. If an egg broke inside of her, she could get an infection. I can't really afford to treat a sick chicken, but my sis and I will be damned if we'll let anything happen to her while we just sit by and watch.

This morning, at my sister's urging, I soaked Lunesta in a pot of warm water, to get all the crap off of her bloomers. She really fowled up that water, har har. Afterwards, I dried her off (as much as one can dry off a feathered being), wrapped her in a towel and sat in front of the fire to watch Golden Girls. I'm 98% sure I heard her laugh when Dorothy called Stan a barf bag.




'I have work tonight and tomorrow night, and I'm up three hours past my bedtime. Why am I so mean to myself? At least I did yoga, though.

I got e-mail from Andrew, one of the folks from the Forgotten Miracle site. He put my jersey in the mail today! It's unnumbered because he didn't want me to have to wait six weeks for it. Squeeee!

In related news: February 16th was my two year hockeyversary. That's right, two years ago that I saw my first NHL game at the Ice Palace in Tampa. The Bolts vs the Caps. The Bolts lost the game but hockey won my heart.

Tampa Bay Lightning!

After the game, we wandered around town and were accosted by some pirates. Tampa's fake pirate festival was going on, you see. I wanted to take a picture of this snockered pirate and when Indi went over to ask him if I could, he made her and Acie post for a picture with him. While this was going on, a sea wench (what do you call a female pirate?) came over and put some beads around my neck. And I didn't even have to flash my boobs! Wrong town? Oh, well.

Sometimes he sits and thinks and sometimes he just sits.

Eleven days later, I saw my second game - Bolts vs Wild. Again, the Bolts lost, but I had the pleasure of being there for Mike Smith's first night as netminder for the Tampa Bay Lightning. I felt bad for him, standing out there in his Dallas pads. I hate Dallas, btw. Stars, Cowboys, fuck 'em all.



I had a lot more to say, but I really need to get my fat ass up to bed. Wake me up at 5:30, okay?

2 comments:

Michael Petrella said...

I hope Lunesta is alright... there are a lot more Dorothy jokes that require chicken guffaws.

turtle tracks said...

She's still hanging in there. We took our goose to the emergency vet once. He was a big hit. Of course, now he tries to kill me every time I go out into the yard, but I'm glad he's still around. And yes, we used to watch TV with the geese. They prefer Maximum Exposure.

There's really nothing better than a Golden Girls marathon, is there?