While Dave was driving home from work the other day, he got a call from the Sheriff. One of Dave’s hobbies is worrying, so that was the last people he wanted to get a call from. Dave was able to breathe (a little) sigh of relief when the Sheriff revealed that he was now the man in charge of the chicken applications.
The Sheriff was less than enthused about his new job as “the chicken and bees guy.” During their conversation, he kept pausing as if convinced that his last statement would have made Dave finally see the light and rescind our application.
Their talk went something like this:
“I’m looking at the satellite view of your yard and it looks awfully small.” Pause.
“Well, have you measured it?”
“Yes. I think it meets the requirements.”
“Well, have you talked to your neighbors yet?”
“Well, you’ll want to do that and make sure they are okay with it. I will be talking to them myself, too.” Pause.
“I’m pushing all these chicken applications to the back and starting with the bees.” Pause.
When Dave told me about the phone call, I panicked. I was worried the Sheriff would get to our neighbors first. So even though we were in the middle of packing to go out of town, I cajoled everyone into taking a walk. I just knew we had to get to our neighbors first; they would have a much harder time saying no to our sweet faces (well, at least E. & A.’s).
We had to warm up before talking to Wilma, so we went to our next door neighbor first. The mail carrier fortunately gave us a piece of her mail so we had an extra excuse to visit her. She was not too impressed by the mail carrier but grateful for the mail and said she didn’t see any reason we couldn’t get chickens. We promised to give her some fresh eggs.
Then came Wilma. She was cordial and invited us in. Everybody did their part: A. looked cute. E. managed not to break anything. Dave schmoozed (one of his hidden talents) and I looked earnest and tried not to be too frank and honest as I have a tendency to do.
She didn’t seem thrilled. She wrinkled her nose and asked about noise, about our dogs, and about what the rest of our neighbors had said, but in the end, she gave her approval. We also promised her some fresh eggs. (Eggs for everybody who helps us get closer to owning chickens!)
Now we’re just waiting for the Sheriff to come out and measure our yard. Then we could get this chicken party started.