Animal Attack

Today, we reached Day 39,830,968 of quarantine thanks to COVID-19. OK, so maybe it hasn’t been quite that long, but it’s certainly felt that way and we’re all pretty much losing our minds over here.

In an effort to hold onto the tiny shred of sanity we had left, we decided to actually LEAVE THE HOUSE on Saturday to go somewhere with fresh air. “Let’s check out the local farm,” we said to ourselves. “It will be easy enough to maintain six feet and at least we’ll get B out of the house.”

Big mistake.

We rolled into said farm and immediately knew we were in trouble. Across the street was a man flying what Google tells me is called a “tube man” (#themoreyouknow). Did he steal this item from a used car dealership? It’s very likely. Did he have children with him to at least make this seem slightly less odd? No. Yet there he was, unintentionally serving as a warning to us that we probably shouldn’t go any farther because clearly everyone in the radius of this farm had gone completely mad.

We didn’t heed the warning, but instead began our trek up the small hill. Instead of the peaceful, serene farm that we knew very well, we saw more people than we’ve ever seen in our lives, all of which likely had the same idea we did about getting some fresh air.

“Fine,” we said. “We can avoid them. Let’s go around the back.” So we head behind a barn and begin making our way towards some goats. Out of NOWHERE, a chicken LEAPS out of the barn and – mid-air – attempts to grab some rotten Brussels sprouts out of my fist (joke’s on you, bird – we brought them to you because we didn’t want to eat them ourselves…). He missed and fell to the floor, but that didn’t discourage him from getting right back up, taking flight again, and attempting his kamikaze mission a second time. So much for keeping 6 feet away from all living things…

In an effort to avoid the rabid animal, I began running down a nearby hill – backwards. I was going at a pretty decent clip until I crashed into something behind me. Within microseconds, I felt something start nipping at my rear end and quickly deduced that I had walked right into the front of the goat pen (which I now know does NOT really have the electric fence it says it does or I would have been electrocuted right then and there).

So not only did the chicken have a vendetta against me, but I also learned that a goat who was bigger than I was also wanted to maul me to death. And it wasn’t like the chicken had lost interest – that POS was still coming at me, but I now couldn’t move away because my pant pockets were being held hostage by Giant the Goat.

I finally figured out that maybe I should get rid of the food I had been holding in my hand, so I launched it as far as I could throw. The chicken went running after it, and the goat got distracted by something else, mercifully letting me go. The chicken took one bite of the food, literally looked up at me as if to say, “Are you freaking kidding me? I fought you for THIS?” and then walked away in disgust, leaving the rotten Brussels sprouts on the ground.

You may be asking yourself what my husband and daughter were doing through all this. Wrestling the rabid animal away from me? No. Running for help? No. They were laughing. Just laughing.

If I decide to ever leave the house again – which is still very much up in the air – it definitely won’t be to go there.