Dead Chicken, No Water June 19

Dead Fowl, No Water June 19

KB has come to help me work with my computer. The drillers have not returned, and we are wondering if another ceremony will be required when they do come. Sunday morning we find that the chicken is dead, and then we really wonder. Where you wait for transport is just outside the Presby Church and Kathryn is waiting to return to her site. When church is out we are talking with my counterpart and the committee chair, and the fetish priest joins us. All three assure us that nothing more is required when the crew returns to work. Everything is OK. KB says it’s certainly not OK for the chicken, the chicken is dead. Everybody laughs, but I explain to the priest that although we are laughing we recognize that what he does is serious. He then assures us that the fowl knew her role in the process and accepted it. I can certainly testify that seemed to be the case. During the course of several days she was tethered to a rock, then moved to a tree, to the porch out of the rain, and then to another rock. She scratched around in the dirt, but she never squawked, flapped her wings, or gave any sign of complaint. Interestingly enough, a dog that roams around the site sniffed her out a couple of times, but always wandered away. It seemed to me that the fowl was quite sanguine about the entire process, so don’t be calling the animal rights people, OK?