Dogs and chickens

I took the dog out for a walk yesterday. It was a pleasant sunny Saturday. Aside from half of the city moving out on account of the college semester begin over and it being the end of the month, it was a peaceful stroll. I wandered my way up to one of my favorite streets in Burlington, Prospect Street. I love this street because of the big old Victorian houses. It has a very suburban feel to it while still being within walking distance of downtown. It is so much quieter than my own street. I often dream of being wealthy enough to move up there.

I strolled along enjoying the chirping birds. Along the way I was greeted by my own neighbors who were passing in their car. It was all very quaint and serene and felt very homey. Suddenly the chirping was interrupted by three dogs to my right hitting the fence separating them from Cabbie (my dog). They snarled and barked and created such a frenzy it made me wonder if the fence would hold. I looked toward the house to see if anyone would come out to control them. No one did. I notice the yard was bare of grass, and holes, where the dogs amused themselves by digging, were every where. It resembled a mine field.

The house stood on a corner lot. So I hurried Cabbie (now rather dazed himself) around the corner. I was grateful that the dogs section of the yard was closed off from the other side. I was pondering what the purpose of the small house like structure was in this new section of the yard. Since it was not in a place where the dogs had access. Suddenly from the other side of the fence about three chicken started squawking and flying around. One even flew over the fence to cluck and strut around the driveway. I should mention here. I don't do chickens. I love a good omelet as much as the next person. But the chickens themselves. No thank you. My daughters love for me to take them to Shelburne Farm. There the kids can collect eggs from the chicken coop and hold the chickens. And I dutifully take them breathing deeply the whole time Chloe lugs each chicken around. Ew ick. Yuck.

Needless to say I found myself dragging the dog down the street to escape. From this I feel it is obvious to point out the grass is not always greener. Here I have always admired this area for its peace and serenity. And the whole time they have been dealing with crazy dogs and chickens. It strikes me that these are the people for whom city ordinances are written.

I will go back to my own little street with the homeless people pushing bottle carts down to the redemption center. They don't move as fast as the chickens. Those chickens- I mean they were freaky.