This morning proved to not be quite as peaceful. When I walked by Sweet Man's stove I heard an eerie scratching sound coming from inside.
Now any other day I probably would have just shrugged it off and went on with my tasks. But not this morning. For you see, this is where the headless body lay of our rather large feisty rooster. By the time the deed was done the previous evening, a storm had rolled in, and a fire was not lit to cremate the body. So it lay. Waiting. With the door closed.
All sorts of disturbing thoughts entered my head on this foggy morning."Was it possible that it was too dark to see correctly, and a foot had been lopped off instead of a head? Is it possible for a chicken to survive without a head? Has he come back from the grave to torment me for taking his life and then not even eating him?" AUGH!!! I just had to know!!
Armed with nothing more than knee high rubber boots, I proceeded to approach the stove with caution. I figured if an ax couldn't be the demise of a chicken, a pair of rubber boots wouldn't do a bit of good. But still I walked on ever so slowly. I listened. I heard more scratching. I smacked the stove to see if it would quit. It didn't!! Whatever it was doing in there, it was not happy. "Oh Lord, please forgive me for taking the life of something you created. Please don't let this headless chicken flog me!! I just know I would be traumatized by such an event."
I listened again and found the sound to be coming from BESIDE the stove, instead of in it. Further inspection showed this...