Fowl Language

Today was an unusually pleasant day in the Pacific Northwest.

So pleasant in fact that, for the first time all year, the two leggers left several windows open all day.

There was a slight breeze blowing from the West, billowing the curtains ever so softly

It was the type of day that begs a young, virile, strikingly handsome housecat to spend the day lounging in the bay window in tranquil repose. The sunbeam shone warmly upon me as I pondered all the scents, smells and sounds softly delivered on the gentle wind.

I even found myself unable to be disturbed by the annoying antics of the squirrel thingy.

It was truly a wonderful day to be a cat.

I knew it was too good to last.

As I lay there in blissful meditation, I became aware of a sound:

"BOKBOKBOK....BRRRRROKBOKBOK........BOKBOKBOK"

I jumped up and looked around to find the source of this irritant. It appeared to be coming from a large brown bird thingy that was strutting, yes I said strutting, across my yard! I was agog at the temerity of this feathered fiend. One does not enter my yard without my permission, and as far as strutting, well, that is simply unheard of. I am the ONLY strutter in my kingdom.

While I was standing there, trying to figure out first, what the heck this thing was, and second, how to kill it in the most amusing manner possible, Jaq sauntered up asked  "Why is there a chicken in the yard?"

I informed her that she was mistaken, this was no "chicken". Chickens are born and live their lives in the freezer thingy. They have no feathers. They are simply lumps of meat wrapped in plastic that the two leggers like to roll in flour and drown in burning oil. They live to be sliced, diced and souped.  They are known to hang out with other creatures called "dumplings". Though I have never heard one speak,  I am sure that they would never say: "BOKBOKBOK".  I believe that chickens are the "Alpha Meat". No matter what two leggers eat, they always say that it tastes like chicken. Therefore, all meat must have chicken origins.

However, Jaq seems convinced that this trespasser is indeed a chicken. To settle the matter, I began to hiss and squawl in an attempt to attract the attention of the male two legger who happened to be in the kitchen. Thinking that I was chewing on Tiger Lily's head again, he came running out of the kitchen brandishing the water squirty thingy. Realizing that it was something outside that had triggered my wrath, he leaned over and peered out the window. I ordered him to go out and bring me the interloper. Or better yet, the lifeless corpse of the interloper.

The two legger immediately grabbed the broom sweepy thingy, went outside and much to my dismay, chased the creature back across the street while shouting "Get outta here ya stupid chicken!" 

Now my day is ruined. Not only is my peaceful reverie irretrievably broken, but now I have to deal with the realization that the two legger by calling the bird thingy a "chicken" (thereby agreeing with Jaq) has proven something beyond a reasonable doubt:

They both suck at bird thingy identification.