Our Fallen Fowl Friend

On June 25, 2009, three memorable beings died. The King of Pop, Charlie's Angel, and Ed Bert. Ed Bert passed on from this bitter cruel world. She died from heat exhaustion under the triple digits of the Arizona sun. I tried to do everything I could to save her. But I was too late and she moved on to a big bird heaven in the sky. But to make sure I sent her off in style. And yes, I wrote that correctly. Ed bert is indeed a female chicken aka a hen. I might have named her after she died and I apparently do not know the difference between a hen or a rooster. But i digress. I was determined to give Ed bert a funeral that any chicken would be proud of. My dad wanted to just throw her in the trash can but I felt it was my harry potteric duty to dig a grave and bury him personally. So after an eight hour shift at Payless, I came home to dig a hole at the hottest part of the day. But before I continue, let me describe his cemetary location. Our roping shoot, I recently discovered, is an illegal graveyard for horses and cows. Picture Lion King, if you will, with the elephant graveyard. Pretty much the same idea. So I chose an ideal spot next to the Jeep with a prime view of the McDonald's arch and started digging. The cows just happened to be in the roping shoot and they joined the circle to remember their fallen fowl friend. I spent about an hour digging a grave worthy of chicken royalty. Then the funeral service began. Nothing was lacking. We obviously had a vicar, which i just recently found out is a clergical officiator. Bishop Ellsworth was there to offer a beautiful eulogy. And I might be mistaken but I think I saw a tear in one of the cow's eyes. We then had a musical number provided by my iPod - Wind Beneath My Wings by Bette Midler. It was a beautiful ceremony.

Moral of the Story - Never invite a cow to a funeral. (Apparently, cows are not respectful of the dead. As I left the funeral service, I watched as a cow walked over and micturated on the newly dug grave. And that is why I will never bury a cow. That and because I'll prolly eat him for dinner.)