Let the record show that Mimo, old lady, is still pushing out an egg
every two days. Of course we know that she has no control over this, but it
still seems like something to applaud. Mimo the Miraculous you may call her.
Generally chickens are pretty spry creatures so it’s hard to talk to
them about feeling under the weather. I tried, “My sister didn’t react well to
the shot.”
“Well,” said Mimo, “I should think not.”
“They call it a ‘jab’ over in Britain.”
Appenzeller, “Where they still use swords and spears?”
Pecorino, “I’d have thought it was an either/or situation. Either you get
shot, or you are jabbed. Two different levels of military technology.”
“What do you know about arms and armaments?”
Mimo, “That we don’t own any. If we were particularly nice and kind for a
week, could you remedy the situation with maybe a missile or two?”
Pecorino, “Arms or armament.”
Appenzeller, “We do have beaks. I could peck the cat if you want.”
“I don’t want.”
Appenzeller, “I could exercise free will.”
“I don’t want you to peck the cat.”
Pecorino, “The dog’s a bit big.”
“Don’t attack Hamish either. Could you not take your aggression out on
rodents?”
Mimo, “Haven’t seen any.”
“Now you come to mention it,” I said, “neither have I.”
Mimo, “You have weapons for invisible enemies? Invisible vision goggles?”
“They’re classified.”
Pecorino, “We could peck soup?”
“Why would you peck soup?”
Appenzeller, “To get into the Guinness Book of World Records.”
Pecorino, “The first chickens ever to peck soup.”
“You know,” I said, desperate to change the topic, “when I was up at the school
I met a visitor from Texas. He was visiting.”
Mimo, “And?”
“We chatted about Hamish. Everyone likes Hamish.”
Pecorino, “Except invisible rats.”
“He was in the oil pipeline business. And you know what he asks his new
employees read?”
Mimo, “The New Employee’s Exciting Book of Pipelines?”
Appenzeller, “How to Shoot a Pig?”
Pecorino, “The Bible?”
“Herodotus.”
Mimo, “Herodotus of Halicarnassus, or Herodotus and the Pipeline Fixer?”
“The Greek historian.”
Appenzeller, “So whenever a pig gets stuck in the pipe these Texas people go,
‘What would Herodotus do?’”
“He said he wanted his employees to know about human behavior.”
Pecorino, “Where did you say he was from?”
“Houston. In Texas.”
Pecorino, “Not San Antonio?”
“No. Why?”
Pecorino, “I was remembering the Alamo.”
Mimo, “And Phil Collins.”
“Now I’m lost.”
Appenzeller, “Front man for the band Genesis. Wrote songs.”
“I know the name.”
Appenzeller, “Well, then.”
“Well what. Why mention a British rock star when Pecorino says, ‘Remember the
Alamo?’”
Appenzeller, “Because Phil’s a fan.”
“Of what?”
Appenzeller, “The Alamo.”
“He rents cars from them? What?”
Mimo, “Word from the birds is you can see his collection.”
“Records? Stamps? Barbie dolls?”
Mimo, “He collected all things Alamo and then donated them to the museum.”
“We’re discussing Phil Collins of Genesis, the British guy?”
Mimo, “This is what we’ve been told.”
“Well blow me down and tell me Phil wasn’t Greek.”
Appenzeller, “Phil Collins is Greek?”
“I’m not talking about Phil Collins; I mean Phillip the Duke of Edinburgh.
Greek Royal Family.”
Mimo, “Oh no, his family was from Denmark.”
Pecorino, “Hence the blue eyes and blond hair.”
“Can I wake up now?”
Appenzeller, “What?”
“This is a dream isn’t it? I mean there’s no way you could know all this.”
Mimo, “You may have a valid point there.”
Pecorino, “What would Herodotus say?”
Appenzeller, “Wake up whenever you wish.”
Mimo, “Just as long as it’s soon.”
Pecorino, “Because we’re hungry.”
“Morning girls,” I said when I had showered and dressed. “I just had the
strangest dream. It was about Phils.”
Mimo, “We’re very much in favor of fills. Fills all the way to the top.”
Appenzeller, “In the region of the digestive tract.”
Pecorino, “Have your fill and eat it, I always say. Well, sometimes.”
Mimo ran joyously, which is something chickens sometimes do. “Another day in
Paradise.”
“Why would he be in my dream? I don’t even like Phil Collins. And the Alamo?
This COVID era is pretty bonkers, is it not?”
No answer.
“Me, I’d much rather dream about ninety-nine balloons. Hast du etwas Zeit für
mich?”
Mimo, “Off his head.”
Pecorino looked at her feet, “And so early in the morning.”
Appenzeller, “You have to wonder.”
“Dann singe ich ein Lied für dich/ von neunundneunzig Luftballons/ auf ihrem
Weg zum Horizont…”
I’m here to tell you chickens were not fond of Nena until I hooked up a speaker
and played them this version.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oIO5lfJ9dhs ;
<https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oIO5lfJ9dhs>
I’d say they were puzzled by the intro, but when the beat kicked in…damn those
ladies can dance.
David.
