Funny Stories About Animals

Chickens who Cried Wolf

I had chickens when I was a kid. We lived in the country (Ramona) and our neighbors had a HeeHaw donkey.

We got the chickens as chicks, when you can’t tell what sex they are. They all grew up to be boys. We made them a nice chicken coop. They couldn’t get the hang of crowing though, I guess they learn from  other grown up male chickens. When they tried to crow (and it was at totally random times, not at the crack of dawn), it was all chokey and cawey and it sounded like they had laryngitis. I was totally disappointed in these chickens as they didn’t product yummy eggs and you can’t cuddle them like you sometimes can with hens.

I guess one night a coyote must have gotten them because they were all gone the next day. They probably called for help but we probably just thought they were practicing their laryngitis crowing so we ignored them.

Unless, of course, this is one of those “where the goldfish really went” kinds of stories where I’ll never know the truth from my parents who were probably sick of the crazy chickens.

Stoner Racoon Tribe

We went camping once up in the local mountains and a bunch of our companions left out all their food on the picnic table (new to camping I guess). Our mountains don’t have bears so a rustling sound in the middle of the night is usually cause for looking around, not for freaking out. Rustling commenced and we poked our heads out the tent window to see a rare site. A band of raccoons had found the stash. One had taken the lid off the Pringles can and was eathing the Pringles one at a time .There were three other raccoons, one on the table top, and the others on the ground, and the one on the table top was handing down Oreos to his compadres one at a time and they were passing them down the assembly line so everyone got his fair share. They had to be stoners, there’s no way a normal racoon would have such communal respect for Oreos.

Things Not to Do Around Bears

So we’re hiking in Yosemite and after 3 days of pristine empty wilderness we hit bear central and oodles of other backpackers (at the base of Half Dome). Bears are circuiting the camp like clockwork in broad daylike, almost blase … roaming in, sniffing, and then casually pondering away as the ruckus of clanging pots and pans erupts, on to the next site.  It was a little nerve-racking but it was the first time we’d gotten a real close look at bears.

That night 4 of us were sharing this cool, crazy “teepee” tent I have, lined up like sardines. A really big bear came into camp and Jack was already on the defensive, nervous as a cat in a room full of rockers. We all were actually.  He rushes to our defense, grabbing the tin pot and plastic trowel we had stashed for just such an occasion, and looked out the window just in time so see the bear rear up on its hind legs, towering directly over him, holding our bear can overhead so he could try to break it open. Panic struck. Fumbling in the dark for my glasses (this was before my PRK), I managed to seal Connie, my neighbor, off in the depths of her sleeping bag, pinning the opening shut as she silently thrashed about inside. Meanwhile Jack’s pot+trowel action had reached claxon-volume, deafening us inside the tent. The bear eventually gave up working on the bear can and shambled off, trounced and annoyed. I found my glasses and Connie finally escaped her sleeping bag to discover that she’d missed everything. After that Tony came out of his hammock (aka bear feedbag) and slept in the middle of the camp next to the fire.

After a sleepless night of anti-bear vigils (see the next section) we had breakfast and I was looking for a nice private backcountry bathroom. The campsite was crowded so it was hard to find a private spot. I finally found a perfect copse of trees and had just dropped trou when I realize I was in exactly the wrong place, between a mother bear and cub (they were each about 15 feet from me. Mindless, I pulled up my pants, and scampered madly down hill back to camp (doing exactly what you shouldn’t do … nevermind, brain not working), yelling to all the other pody-break gals on my path “Bear Bear Bear!” So a whole herd of us came running down the hill, pulling up our pants, some not even clear the reason for the hasty escape, “What’s going on?”, with me in the lead and finally fully dressed.  We all arrived on the trail near camp to a group of puzzled guys who were wondering why we were all yelling and running.

Just Visiting

I’m just visiting today

work is driving me insane

things are *&#$ crazy *&$%@ (say it with a crazy face waggling your hands around like a nut)

its a who’s on first who’s on second kind of day

a “5 chickens” kind of day

people have lost their minds

forgotten the whole can of worms

pandora’s box has opened

office or asylum, I’m not sure

you know you’re crazy when nobody else but you seems to see anything wrong with the way things are going

everyone but me is happy with the chaos

I’m turning sour

going bad

rotting like that science experiment we found in the back of the fridge in a sour cream container

we don’t even know if it was sour cream to begin with

I am listening to some really weird Mexican electro-synth shoegazer

and exporting thousands of miles worth of topo maps to my GPS

while working on a bazillion documents that turn out to be due yesterday even though this is the first I’ve heard of them

every time I talk to people I end up cursing by mistake

I am thinking that I hate everyone but they are basically good

help me kill myself

I’m never going to be OK after this

I am wearing a blue Visitor sticker

My name is ______________

VISITOR

I am just visiting today

Keeps me from going insane