Just wear boots

I live on a farm. I live on a farm because I love my husband, Charlie. He loves growing things. I'm allergic to everything so I'm not much help with the animals, the orchard or the garden. I work in the city. It's a three hour commute round trip, but I really don't mind the drive. I love my job.

Arnie, not so much.

Arnie, our resident rooster, thinks I am one of his chicks. Every single morning without fail he is waiting for me by the car, ready for battle. Doesn't matter if the sun is below the horizon or well into the sky, if I am heading to work, he is waiting to crow at me and peck my toes. I can't even bribe him to leave me alone.

If Charlie is with me, Arnie is off chasing his hens. But if I'm alone, better be sure my feet are covered. I actually have scars from the early days before I realized who was boss.

You might say, why don't you just get a new rooster. Well, first and foremost, Arnie, loony tune that he is, is family. You don't just replace family when they get on your last nerve. Much as the idea might appeal. No, family is for keeps. More importantly, though Arnie saved my life not long ago.

It was June, and a traveling circus had come to town. They did one show, Saturday night and then were supposed to go on to the next town Sunday morning. Except their star attraction, Ollie the Orangutan in Shining Armour, escaped. The whole town was put on alert, searching for Ollie.

Clearly, I must attract nature's nuttiest creatures because Monday morning, as I was heading to my car, what did I see but Ollie the Orangutan wielding his not so innocent looking sword as he toppled toward me in his medieval armor, helmet askew.

In the same moment I noticed Ollie, Arnie came into view, full speed. He started squawking and pecking at Ollie's non-armor covered feet. Ollie slowed down, waving his sword inelegantly at poor Arnie, spinning and tipping this way and that. I jumped in the car and called the local sheriff, Andy, to tell him we had found Ollie.

By the time the deputies showed up with the circus trainer, Ollie was on his his back, defeated, Arnie on his chest alternately crowing and pecking.

All that to say, Arnie is both family and our hero. He's a keeper.

I just don't wear sandals to work.