For Easter, one year, my Mom bought my sister and me a live chick apiece. Mine was green and Renee’s was pink. My Mom doubted that the chicks would live very long and thought we’d enjoy having them for a while.
Mine did not live that long as our family dog made a snack of it. However, Renee’s lived to be a full-grown bird with a pretty nasty temperament. It was not a playful pet.
Winter came, and one night it snowed. My Dad came home from work and rushed inside the house to eat. Company was coming. While he was inside, the chicken discovered the heat rising from the vents on the hood of his car and roosted there. After supper, my dad looked out the window and saw our company drive by, missing our house in the snowstorm. My dad ran out and jumped in the car to chase them down. When he turned on the windshield wipers, the chicken hopped up and jumped over the wiper blades when they went up and again when they went down…and again when they went up and again when they went down. The bird successfully jumped the wipers several times, but when my dad got up to speed, the chicken spread its wings and flew off the car. We never saw him after that.
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