No, one didn’t fly over the Cuckoo’s Nest with Jack Nicholson. Rather, it flew the coup. Roy Rooster, seeking a change in his life, landed in my garden and proceeded to enjoy the fruits of his freedom. Just scratched around quite unconcerned.
The Cat was watching his every move. “Ah,” thought the cat, “this could be my morning snack!”
“Ah,” thought Roy, “this is the best garden salad I’ve tasted in ages!”
Talk about free range!
The Cat continued to prowl, stealthily, like the black panther hunting. Just couldn’t quite get close enough, not even within a paw’s width. Salivating was The Cat, though. “Forget large fries and potato and gravy, just give me that chicken!” But drive through or drive by, Roy didn’t put a claw wrong.
And The Cat circled – and hoped.
Not once did Roy, very handsome in his white plumage, fall foul of the preying cat. A cluck here and there fixed that!
“Better the cat than all those nagging women in the henhouse!” Roy thought. “Besides, the cat is domesticated, as I am (and adventurous with it!), and he doesn’t want to have his fur ruffled if the feathers fly. And I don’t want my feathers to fly, thank you!”
So Roy just kept on scratching a living off the good earth. And The Cat? Well, The Cat gave up. Yes, walked away, tail down.
.There are eight million true stories in
The Naked City and this has been one of them!
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