Fowl Reality

Woodhaven is a bit out in the boonies. I know this. But there are still times, even nine years after trading my suburban, side-walked life for rural redneckiness, that I feel very Green Acres Eva Gaborish. So out my element and caught by surprise by the realities of boondocks living. Today for example.

We live on a hill. The top of the hill is a dead end and there is only one road down the hill. At the bottom of the hill is The Stop Sign. Everyone who lives on the hill -- I'm going to guess maybe 150 homes -- has to stop at the sign to leave "the neighborhood." So it has become the central communication point for any information that needs to be shared communally. Cardboard signs posted there have alerted us to things such as lost pets, mail thefts, community meetings, and bobcat sightings.

This afternoon this sign was posted:

Yikes!

I have some similarly rural friends who have quite a lively tale about dogs and chickens. So I do know how heartbreaking and apparently delicious the two can be with they try to mingle. And there is a law. And there is a need for responsibility. But there are also circumstances beyond one's knowledge before it's too late. At least this guy is giving some warning, I suppose.

I think my favorite part is the other sign to the right. The "Lost Dog" sign. It has been there for several weeks...yet it is something of a brilliantly ominous threat punctuating the new sign's message.

We hear gunshots quite frequently here at Woodhaven. I am going to continue believing they are merely hunters sighting rifles in preparation for hunting season. Beats the distant gang-related shots I used to hear in the suburbs.

Yep, Green Acres -- even with its irrefutable food chain -- is the life for me. Sadly not so much for the chickens.