The bastard got her

Christian Polito about Erna out of the box.

2 p.m., I come to our famous driveway, which is now covered with trickle, and think I’m crazy. There is a bird of prey sitting on our Erna out of the box (see who it is at www.edermühle.at). In short, a personality of a chicken that had lived in our hearts. I am overwhelmed, consider letting the car roll down the driveway towards the bird of prey and make it look like an accident, but I decide to use the horn in a species-appropriate manner.

The attacker just looks at me bored and only reacts with a departure when I let the fictitious accident scenario roll in. Erna jumps up and runs into the stable – the little devil chicken is alive! When I look at her, however, it doesn’t look good. He caught her in the throat, the bastard. I would initiate emergency surgery if I could, but I can’t.

Apart from the fact that I am not a doctor, chicken emergency surgery sets are likely to be quite rare and therefore very expensive, which alone would cost a small chicken defibrillator. Doesn’t matter.

I pull myself together, say goodbye to Erna and save her from her painful struggle. I deliver the news to Steffi, who has to cry at the same time. After we both say goodbye to Erna again, she gets an honorable cremation – that is the least for this combative and lovable little soul.

It is now known that we have a mess in the Edermühle, but it is how it is, and there are worse things than having friendly feelings for a chicken.

We will miss you very much, little Erna, you were a very special chicken that gave us a lot of joy and laughter. Take care!

Yes, dear NÖN readers, now I actually read an obituary for a chicken – it would have been because of the Klescher …