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March 09, 2009

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Bob Cleveland

It's highly likely that his Rooster buddies had been riding him about being named after a gimpy Rube from Gunsmoke.

From Dodge City, a-k-a Death Wish City.

Cactus Petunia

Life in the country is dangerous!

The Mom Bomb

I'm thinking Chester had a deathwish. Anger can be a sign of depression. Maybe he was bipolar.

Sigh. The Chicken Prozac might have saved him.

Melanie @ Mel, A Dramatic Mommy

Aww, that's sad. Not enough to make me stop eating chicken, but still. Poor dumb Chester.

MommyTime

My sister's pool sweep is named Pepe. She calls "him" the pool boy. She feels it makes their house seem more glamorous. ;)

Also, could you please tell me how to pronounce "cochin," since it seems dangerously close to being pronounced as a dirty word in my mouth?

Bob Cleveland

I must confess I'd make a lousy farm boy .. I mean, I've never EVER had a desire to go swimming in used bidet water.

NEVER.

tj

...I'm almost certain that Chester's thrill seeking was in the chicken "bidet". Riding around on Ernest, not so much... lol ;o)

...Blessings...

Bob Cleveland

Oh .. and then there was the time I helped my father-in-law pull a calf. They named him Robert.

He turned out to be the biggest steer they ever had. And boy, was HE good.

Bob Cleveland

I suppose y'all HAVE heard the story about the pig with the wooden leg?

Mental P Mama

Why is it that fluffy legs only look good on a rooster?

Ellie

I thought that pool sweep -- er, Ernest -- was a chicken stethoscope when I first saw it.

annbb/TSannie

The comments here are almost as good as your story. And I'm of the opinion that you get back what you put out...Chester certainly got his!

Chesapeake Bay Woman

Actually, I think the moral lies somewhere between a turd of a chicken and his puffy little chicken ass, but sometimes I focus on the wrong details....

Bob Cleveland

Our kids had a pet chick named Doc, when they were little. When he got too big for the cage, we took him to Peg's folks' farm, where he lived a reasonable life.

He'd do that same thing to us when were walking to the outhouse.

Doc had a special place in my kids' hearts, and eventually one with me, too.

Right next to the mashed potatoes, one Sunday noon.

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