Big White is AWESOME! Chickens and Cats… and Dogs

There is a new family coming to the mountain (yay!) cos their house burned down (booo!), they have kids (yay!) and a chicken… (what…?) and two dogs (yay!) they play tennis (booo!)

Tennis is the sport where you need boys to go fetch balls… and in a game you have six or seven of these boys (when I say boys I mean girls too) rubbish! You've seen it on TV? Too many umpires, too many ball boys, too many balls and way too much grunting - it is not wrestling… I think golfers should grunt.

Now squash… that is an elegant sport, one ball, no ball boys, and much faster than tennis… yes it is! Yes it is!!! Yes… it is.

Top speed in tennis is what 42 mph…? Ok, I know Samuel Groth 163.4 mph… yes ok, it is pretty fast…

But Squash… 178mph, and an average speed of 151 mph in a high level match… 15 mph faster than tennis… And squash is the sport that will burn more calories than any other racquet sport, and will get you fitter quicker… yes… or it will give you a coronary - but more fun than shovelling snow (popular in the heart attack community…) And you don't have to walk two miles to get the ball… and the ball is only 39.5mm in diameter… tennis balls 3 feet in diameter - how can you miss those?

And continuing with my off-topic diatribe - apparently I am in the age zone for heart attacks - being closer to 40 than 30… (alright, I am 45… but still closer to 40 than 30!) soooo Jenni Jenni Jenni, it is why I exercise and play squash, so there; go and hang some clothes on your treadmill...

Okay - Cats.
Don't like em, they are not friendly, they are not cuddly, they only greet you when they want something - food. They poop in the house, they slink around like slinky things, and I am allergic to them…

One of my tenants has a cat… the owner said 'yes you can have a cat' so they went out and bought a cat… and another cat. Two cats! Wait, what..? You didn't need me to do the math…? Now the good thing about cats…

• They made great guard dogs… no sorry my mistake, that's dogs.
• They are always glad to see you… er no sorry, dogs again.
• Make great hiking companions… oh, er yes dogs again.
• Are loyal… Ha.
• Are friendly… No.
• Are obedient… whatever.
• Make great rugs/coats… yes I said it. Nobody walks around in a luxury fur jacket made of dog...

And what happens when you go to someones house and you see a dog? You say 'hey buddy, how you doin…?' And the dog comes up and greets you, smells your crotch, slobbers on your hand etc etc. But! When you see a cat you say 'Is that a... cat…?' in the same way you would say 'is that a... slug…? In my salad…!?' It is true. And… you keep an eye on that slinky, yes you do. You watch it slink around cos you know subconsciously it is planning your demise - true.

I looked after a friends cat one time, and this was a regular cat - i.e. pissed off… or Scottish. It would attack if near. Now my friends went on vacation and I was tasked with feeding said cat. After a week the cat stopped attacking me, (give a Scot a beer…) after 10 days I could pet it, after the full two weeks it would greet me and be 'all rubbing up to me' in the kind of way you would find creepy, if it was your uncle… or Al Reid. Great! I thought, I have made friends with the attack cat.

My friends came back and the next day I went to see them and my new feline friend… or not  apparently… the original food source had returned and I had been demoted back down to thing to be disdained... or scratched (take beer away from a Scot). 

Now Chickens.
More precisely and coming full circle to the new people coming to big white, a chicken. Or their chicken, or their chicken named Serena (after the slow hitting tennis player (128.6 mph)).

Tennis or Chicken… the hair, look at the hair.

Serena started out as a meat chicken (this was way before the tennis thing) but she was scrawny - not a good thing, if you want to end up as someones chicken vindaloo... All the other tennis players would bully Serena, and she would not eat much food... One of the children took a shine to Serena and when it came to the day of reckoning, Serena was gone…! Hidden away from the thing that converts chickens into… yes, chicken… (tastes like cats).

Now with all those bullying tennis players gone, Serena thrived, to become the chicken she is today; became very friendly, very social - a part of the family... Serena made a nest in a little dog carrier thing - you know the plastic ones with the metal grate - and…  did I mention the fire thing… on returning to their house cinders, the family found the crate was but a blob of plastic/metal grate...

Eh eh?

ooh ooh ooh… tangent. The fire apparently started at the bbq, on the deck… now imagine being a broiler chicken, escaping the hatchet man, only to end up being roasted alive in a fire... caused by a bbq… what are the odds? Give Serena a lottery ticket...

However Serena had no intention of ending up as bbq'd chicken… …the story did not end, Serena did not go to the big tennis court in the sky. Serena did get a little 'crispy' in some feather areas… but escaped the toasty tomb… and is now happily strutting her stuff on a Belgo farm… probably dodging coyotes…

Sólido Properties rents, manages, and owns property, drinks beer, buys beer for tenants (hold on Chrissy it is coming), abuses people, takes advantage of a blog to further its own means and a whole bunch of other stuff that I can't think of right now… Oh, and thinks Big White is AWESOME!