re: #316 Mr Pancakes

Chapter two please.

Well, he started to paw at the rooster, still holding it in his teeth, and the rooster (name of George, we later discovered), passed out.

Our hostess came running out to see what my mother was screaming about, and when she saw, she said “Now, Nato (that was the dog), aren’t you being silly? Give me George.”

My mother was begging her not to try to take the rooster out of his mouth, for fear he might bite her, but he was thoroughly freaked out by the whole thing, and when she took the rooster, he let her have it without protesting and sort of backed off.

This is where accounts of the story diverge. Our hostess insisted later that the chicken was only unconscious, and would have come around in a minute anyway. My mother believes firmly that George was dead, and our hostess, who was a sweet, earthy woman with a lot of spiritual oomph, brought him back to life. At any rate, he got off with a broken wing, which healed, and Nato was kept on leash outdoors for the rest of the visit.