REBEL ROGUE TAKES A RIDE

"Brrrzzt! Brrzzt!"

"What's that?" 

"5:30 in the morning!  It's still dark out!  Who's sending a video message this time of the morning!"

"Brrrzzt!  Brrrzzt!"

Mind understands, eyes sleepily shut, phone insists.  Fumble, fumble, grope.  Get phone by it's tail (the charging cord) pull it, and you know what happens, the tail disconnects and the bright yellow protective case does its job when the body - thump - hits the floor.  Why do we think we can retrieve a cellphone by it's cord?????

Pudging fingers onto the correct icons is the only way to get it to "Hush!" 

No wonder there were so many vibrations and sounds!  A video message (Marco Polo), and a text message were waking me! 

"Check out the Marco Polo I sent you and Jeani."  Text is from hubby John. Jeani is a lifelong penpal.  We've recently discovered we both love Marco Polo.  

Press icon.

Big and orange, filling the screen, is darling hubby.  Orange is the school's colors for which he drives a bus.

He's grinning. He's proud as a peacock.  He's done something.

"Good morning!" he says.

"I've had a problem with Rebel Rogue the last few mornings," he continues, "She likes to perch on my truck."  And he pans the cell phone's camera over his truck's blue hood.

The blue and white diesel is John's all time favorite pick-up.  When a chicken roosts they leave behind stinky evidence, if you know what I mean.  And in some cases, bird droppings can bleach the color out of vehicles.  

When six year old Jayden heard the story, he said, "I'm not okay with that chicken pooping anywhere!"

"I do not like this!" John tells us via the video message.

"Usually when I start my truck she jumps off!" he's relaying the story.

"This MORNING she did not get off my truck, so when I put it in gear, and reversed to go down the driveway, she stayed on the hood.  When I got to the end of the driveway, instead of turning right to go to work, I turned left, and she still did not get off the hood, so I took her to her original owner!"

Now, I'm awake.  I'm laughing my head off.  I think God does these things, like make a chicken stubborn.  And, I think God helps us out of situations that baffle us, like an easy way to get her home. I must admit, though, like Jeani said, "She's been your entertainment."

Talking to John later, "Well, she'll probably be glad to be home with her other red chickens;
she'll have her friends back.  Chickens are naturally gregarious." 

John expounded, "It was still dark, and there was fog, too.  I could only go 15 mph."

Epilogue:  Piper came out of the garage, slinking slowly - body, tail, and head on a level plane - peering under the truck, turn head left, turn head right, eyes scanning, "Where's that clucker that eats my food?" 

Then cautiously she followed us further, peering under my car the same way.  She followed us  to the deck, and - jump - up onto the picnic table.  She poses there, elegant, totally black, and content, regally taking her rightful place.

Happily, it's not an epitaph on a tombstone ...

Rebel Rogue Will Be Missed.