Seems that when you travel with a chicken, you shouldn’t do it halfway. We went to a friend’s wedding last night. I had joked with our friend that we needed to arrange for another guest at dinner, with an insectivore meal. Practically all of the other guests had already heard that we were traveling with a chicken. And our friend was genuinely disappointed that we didn’t bring the chicken to his wedding.

I’m sitting at Firestone right now. I’ve gotten to know them pretty well here over the last few days as we got a leak in the cooling system diagnosed, waited for a part to arrive, and in the middle of it all, retrieved the car temporarily so we could get to a wedding. They’re pretty friendly here, and we got to talking, so of course they got to hear about the chicken. Every time they’ve seen us since then, they’ve asked whether we brought the chicken so they could see her. Alas, logistics have required the chicken to stay cooped up at the house for a few days. At least I could show them the chicken on my blog.

So be warned, if you talk about your traveling chicken, you might be asked to produce the chicken.

While barreling down the highway, we decided to put the chicken on the dashboard so she could see the wide, wide world out there. I swear she had a look of awe on her face, slowly trying to absorb the magnificent landscape, and how big it all was, and how fast it was flying by.

She wanted to come down soon after. It was just so much for her little brain to handle.