I don't know why I just thought of this.
Back when I was a Senior in high school, I'd get out at noon. I had enough credits and a job, so I was a happy camper to bust the hell out of prison (how ironic is it that I work in a high school now?).
Any way, my beotch Lissie had to go the whole 8 hours or what ever high school hell was. Her father's out look was "any idiot can get out at noon. So he made her go the full day.
It was around Christmas time and she had managed to round up her brothers and get a nice photo of the three of them together. She needed me to pick her cute butt up at school and get down to Olan Mills* to pick up said portrait.
Since I got out at noon, I'd spend a few hours with my horse before having to go in to work. I had a pet rooster named Quiche and he followed me every where.
If I rode my horse out of our farm, Quiche would follow me down to the neighboring farm and wait for me to return from my "trail" ride. Quiche slept on my horse and Quiche's most favorite thing to do was to go for a car ride.
So I go back to school on this winter day with Quiche in tow. I had a 70's mavric car with bench seats. Quiche loved to sit next to me on top of the seat while I drove.
I picked up Lissie and the first words out of her mouth was:
"WHAT is that fucking chicken doing in the car?!?"
It's not a chicken, it's a ROOSTER was my reply.
I miss him.
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