I have a new workout routine. Apparently I have more than one pet that likes to escape and then run me all over the yard as I chase it. I'm not sure who this is more entertaining for-the pet? My elderly neighbor in the next yard over? The dog, who looks wisely bemused at my antics as I make a mad dash and scramble to head off the errant beast. Or maybe my partner thinks it's quite the hoot as I flap and fly and swear my way all over the yard chasing a stray chicken or her damn sneaky cat. Either way, it's a hell of a workout, and if I could just cue the Benny Hill music in the background it would feel just right.
A couple of days ago it was Estelle, the red chicken, flapping and squawking and pooping all over the place before I caught her. This evening it was Isabella the Evil. She squirted out the door with the dog before I could get my foot in her way. She zigged, she zagged, she was lightning, she was smoke. And then she realized she was outside and froze like she'd seen a dog (a real dog-not wimpy old Calvin whom she controls with her mind games). And I placed her, ever-so-gently, back in the house. Okay, I threw her, but in a way that she could land in a healthy manner. :)
The good part is, I corner well. I change directions in a hurry. I stayed upright in the face of peril (peril being the dog poop mines planted in the back yard). Perhaps I should try out for running back-or maybe the Queer in our next game of Smear the Queer. Either way, I would like to thank Isabella and Estelle for the unplanned trips to the backyard gym. Well done ladies!
Estelle as a teenager.
Isabella the Evil in appropriate attire.
....and now the Benny Hill theme is running around in my head.
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