The local multi-cultural market had a special on chicken drumsticks last week, 79 cents a pound. I don’t eat chicken because of my aversion to the way animals are raised for food in this part of the world, but my dogs aren’t as troubled by things like ethics; so, I bought two large packages of about six chicken legs each. I did think briefly about the half dozen chickens who would struggle with paraplegia, I wondered do they even make wheel chairs for chickens or do they have to use skateboards to navigate. Career options for chickens are already limited and I don’t know if hens could lay eggs if they couldn’t squat and cocks would certainly be at a disadvantage in the fighting arena. Knowing the brutality of the chicken pecking order, the future looked grim for the six poultry who lost their legs for my dogs’ benefit.
My freezers are stuffed full of this summer’s nectarines and surplus tomatoes, so I put the packages of drumsticks (sounds way cheerier than chicken legs) in the refrigerator section of the little fridge in my mum’s granny flat and promptly forgot about them. This morning, when looking for something in the little freezer, I got a whiff of something. A search of the fridge exposed the 79 cents per pound chicken legs (no doubt discounted to move the already aged product).
Considering that dogs think cat scat a treat, I deemed the meat “not that bad” and dumped it into the crock pot. And figuring I might as well go all in, I added the usual organic, steel-cut oats ($3.89/lb), some California-grown Jasmine rice (less arsenic than Thai), generic carrots, celery, and potatoes (all dutifully scrubbed to remove any residual pesticides). By the time the crock pot reached simmering temperature, the stench was undeniable and I decided to consult the internet about just how invincible a dog’s digestive tract is. The consensus was NOT, if it smells off, it will make your dog sick. So, since the trash doesn’t get picked up for another three days, I dug a hole in the back yard and buried the whole mess.
My day didn’t get better: I developed a new floater which has me swatting at nonexistent gnats; I got to the checkout line at Trader Joe’s and realized I’d left my credit card at home, so I dutifully returned all of my purchases to the shelves; and upon arriving home, remembered that there’s such a thing as cash that is accepted as legal tender and I had a wad of it in my wallet.
Now, some might think senile dementia is creeping up on me, but I would counter that there are many days that I don’t remember a single similar episode ever happening to me.
judyrutrider 
The bargain that wasn’t, LOL. I’m upset all those pricey organic ingredients got wasted in the process. It’s very easy to forget about cash as a method of payment, it’s so antiquated, but kudos to you for reshelving your cart items instead of just leaving them for the employees to take care of. Floaters are annoying. Senile or not, I love ya, JRR.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yeah, a stock clerk offered to put my items back on the shelf for me but the personal lubricant and Depends were just too humiliating. Actually, Trader Joe’s doesn’t sell those items; my cart is filled with more pedestrian items…wine, dog biscuits…
LikeLike
I love days where my memory is so good that I can’t remember forgetting anything!
Also, don’t you think that if they really only used half the chicken for food – way more humane than flat out slaughter, right? They are still alive! – that it would have to be Geoff’s family business…Stamper Family Farms!
LikeLiked by 1 person
We actually give homemade gifts from the garden that we label from Mollie Farms. I am looking at a bottle of Plum Liqueur from 1972 and wondering if it is safe to drink before the bottle explodes.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Try it on the dog.
LikeLike
You get me. I love that about you.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I don’t know why my response to your comment appeared under Geoff’s comment. Could be the coffee/wine regimen.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Both are necessary…the incipient fuckery of technology that drives us to consume more of both is less necessary!
LikeLike
I actually replied to your comment but in my wine-induced stupor, I posted it under Geoff’s comment. Now I suppose he will think I’m hitting on him when I was actually buttering you up.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I hate how bad days have turned into every days! I cannot believe I was once considered competent and energetic in the real world. I mean I cannot believe it. That must be just another old age delusion.
LikeLike
I find a regimen of coffee followed by wine allows me to maintain the delusion.
LikeLike
Geoff, I apologize. WordPress keeps putting everything I write to galby68 under your comment. (or is that your alter ego?) You were never meant to know that I’m trying to flirt with him and not you. Not that I wouldn’t flirt with you, but I’m friends with your wife and you know that could be complicated and you’re way out of my league anyway. Oh crap, the bartender just cut me off! Clearly, I’m not nearly as funny as I think I am.
LikeLike
They say the chicken drumsticks are not good for the dogs ? They pierce the intestine .
Whatever, you did well, Judy , to bury all of those ! 🙂
I enjoyed your humourous post . You are in full youth , Judy
This post is funny like the latest of mine !
Love ❤
Michel
LikeLike
You’re right about the chicken bones being dangerous to dogs. I’m always very careful to remove the bones. I’m guessing that you too have days when your memory has lapses since you appreciate my humor. Misery loves company, they say.
LikeLiked by 1 person
“Who look alike flock together.” we say in France ! 🙂
LikeLike