Harsh Realities
Not being a current owner of a television, I admittedly run behind the times when a new series is launched and embraced by the viewing public.
And so it is that five seasons after the fact, I am watching Monk on DVD. Quirky, to be sure. But who of us with definite-leanings-but-not-quite-OCD can’t appreciate his habits…his phobias…his coping? Quite entertaining.
Anyway, it was a day for a Monk mystery, in a harsh and cruel sort of way.
And thus it began something like this—
Me: ‘Come on, we’re gonna be late for school!’
Son-Alex: ‘Wait, Hector needs to let out the chickens.’
Neighbour-Hector: ‘Hey, the chickens are dead!’
Yep, of the four current residents in the hen house, two were dead, one was dying, and one was in shock. As Alex is now prone to say, ‘Wha’ th’?’ A definite change from the normal peace and tranquility of regular morning activities.
I shall spare you any grisly photos.
On further inspection, even untrained eyes could see by the large quantities of feathers detached from their owners that something had gotten into the henhouse. A fox? Perhaps. A mink? They do skulk around here. But the hens were secured with no obvious way in. Quite sad, really. And so with no immediate solving of the case, Gentle-Lucy-Of-The-Lodge-And-Hen-Owner was forced to humanely put down the severely injured and Daughter-Kate, bless her, has checked chickens off her Potential Pets list.
Sigh.