- Jun 3, 2008
- 376
- 13
- 131
I went out to check for eggs, as I do every morning, and pulled the door to the run shut behind me. I didn't pull it tight to latch it, I normally don't do that unless I'm going to be in there for a while. But it was windy, so the silly thing blew open and out went Ethel, Henrietta and Olive Oil. After I got everyone safely back inside, I decided to be safe and latched the door. The latch, like many other peoples, is on the outside with a little hole drilled above it and a string going through the hole to pull on and open it when I'm inside.
I gathered the eggs, but had forgotten a basket, so just balanced them in my hands. I couldn't get the string to pull so I rearranged the eggs, and gave it an annoyed tug. Oops. Off it came in my hand. "Haha, now what?" I thought. My neighbors went by out in the street, but I had not yet realized the full gravity of the situation, and didn't want the embarrassment of calling them over to let me out. Remind me, next time, that I'm an idiot. I figured my mother would look out and see me and come and open the door and all would be well. Guess what? She didn't.
I stood in the corner of the run best seen from the house and held up the string, so that she could see it had come off and come to my rescue. After awhile my arm got tired, so I switched hands, and cradled the eggs in the one that had been holding up the string. I didn't want to put them back because I didn't want her to look out right when I wasn't standing there and think every thing was fine. A while after that, I thought that perhaps even though it was only thirty degrees and all the windows were shut, if I called loud enough she might hear me. Guess what? She didn't.
Some time after that, when I had switched arms again, a lady who lives down the road from us walked by. I called to her, but our driveway is long, and while she heard me, I think she just thought I was waving hello. "It's okay," I thought, "Don't panic. Your mother is bound to look out a window and see you soon." My hands were frozen by now, so I put the eggs carefully in my pockets, pulled my jacket sleeves over my hands and held both my arms up against the hardware cloth we stupidly used to keep the run secure. If it had only been chicken wire, I might have been able to rip through it. I was trying to achieve, with my hands up like they were, the perfect look of 'Help I'm Trapped Come Save Me'
I started calling to the neighbors as well as my mother. Though if she couldn't hear me, it was hardly likely that they could. I was beginning to get desperate. Just as I was wondering how long I would have to be out there before the raw eggs in my pockets started to sound like food, the mail man drove up. I'm afraid I rather ruined this one myself. I was practically screaming to the man "MISTER MAIL MAN! MISTER MAIL MAN!! I'M LOCKED IN MY CHICKEN COOP! HELP ME MISTER MAIL MAN!!!" I don't think it's possible that he didn't hear me. I think he must have kept driving because he didn't want to get too close to the psycho climbing the fence of her chicken run.
Once he was gone, I slumped against the fence in defeat. I admit, I came close to tears at that point. As Buttercup came over and started pecking my leg, I wondered how long I would have to be in there before the chickens got hungry enough to eat me. And then I thought, it might be more likely that I would first get hungry enough to eat them. One of my cats had been sitting outside the door to the run this whole time, periodically meowing at me. She was probably wondering what in the world her human was doing yelling like a banshee, but I appreciated the companionship, a link to the outside world as it were. However, no matter how many times I told her, "Midnight, go get help! Go get help, Midnight!" she did not leave. This is, perhaps, why people have dogs.
Finally, finally, after an eternity that was probably in fact only about two hours, my mother opened an upstairs window and called, "why are you standing like that?" I called back, hope and despair in my voice, "I'm locked in!!!" She had the audacity to chuckle, so I called "Don't laugh! Let me out!!!!" She came down, tried valiantly though vainly not to giggle, and rescued me.
So, how was your morning? I know I'm not the first person to lock themselves in either their run or coop, and I'm sure I won't be the last. Now that I've defrosted and had some hot tea to drink, I'm going to search for things to use for a pull other than string. I think I've learned my lesson
I gathered the eggs, but had forgotten a basket, so just balanced them in my hands. I couldn't get the string to pull so I rearranged the eggs, and gave it an annoyed tug. Oops. Off it came in my hand. "Haha, now what?" I thought. My neighbors went by out in the street, but I had not yet realized the full gravity of the situation, and didn't want the embarrassment of calling them over to let me out. Remind me, next time, that I'm an idiot. I figured my mother would look out and see me and come and open the door and all would be well. Guess what? She didn't.
I stood in the corner of the run best seen from the house and held up the string, so that she could see it had come off and come to my rescue. After awhile my arm got tired, so I switched hands, and cradled the eggs in the one that had been holding up the string. I didn't want to put them back because I didn't want her to look out right when I wasn't standing there and think every thing was fine. A while after that, I thought that perhaps even though it was only thirty degrees and all the windows were shut, if I called loud enough she might hear me. Guess what? She didn't.
Some time after that, when I had switched arms again, a lady who lives down the road from us walked by. I called to her, but our driveway is long, and while she heard me, I think she just thought I was waving hello. "It's okay," I thought, "Don't panic. Your mother is bound to look out a window and see you soon." My hands were frozen by now, so I put the eggs carefully in my pockets, pulled my jacket sleeves over my hands and held both my arms up against the hardware cloth we stupidly used to keep the run secure. If it had only been chicken wire, I might have been able to rip through it. I was trying to achieve, with my hands up like they were, the perfect look of 'Help I'm Trapped Come Save Me'
I started calling to the neighbors as well as my mother. Though if she couldn't hear me, it was hardly likely that they could. I was beginning to get desperate. Just as I was wondering how long I would have to be out there before the raw eggs in my pockets started to sound like food, the mail man drove up. I'm afraid I rather ruined this one myself. I was practically screaming to the man "MISTER MAIL MAN! MISTER MAIL MAN!! I'M LOCKED IN MY CHICKEN COOP! HELP ME MISTER MAIL MAN!!!" I don't think it's possible that he didn't hear me. I think he must have kept driving because he didn't want to get too close to the psycho climbing the fence of her chicken run.
Once he was gone, I slumped against the fence in defeat. I admit, I came close to tears at that point. As Buttercup came over and started pecking my leg, I wondered how long I would have to be in there before the chickens got hungry enough to eat me. And then I thought, it might be more likely that I would first get hungry enough to eat them. One of my cats had been sitting outside the door to the run this whole time, periodically meowing at me. She was probably wondering what in the world her human was doing yelling like a banshee, but I appreciated the companionship, a link to the outside world as it were. However, no matter how many times I told her, "Midnight, go get help! Go get help, Midnight!" she did not leave. This is, perhaps, why people have dogs.
Finally, finally, after an eternity that was probably in fact only about two hours, my mother opened an upstairs window and called, "why are you standing like that?" I called back, hope and despair in my voice, "I'm locked in!!!" She had the audacity to chuckle, so I called "Don't laugh! Let me out!!!!" She came down, tried valiantly though vainly not to giggle, and rescued me.
So, how was your morning? I know I'm not the first person to lock themselves in either their run or coop, and I'm sure I won't be the last. Now that I've defrosted and had some hot tea to drink, I'm going to search for things to use for a pull other than string. I think I've learned my lesson
