This forum WILL appreciate my story.

Which by the way, has nothing to do with neuropathy.

Bjarta and the Blowing
(Bee-yarta is the name--Swedish) Bjarta, the beautiful white and beige chicken, did not want to come in to the chicken run. Yes, she could see the sky blackening, and the cuts of lightning shearing to the ground. Bjarta wanted to stay in the raspberries.

The lady that feeds her came out with her stick to chase the chickens into the coop, but this time, she had a different stick. It had a flat thing on it. Bjarta heard her call it a Swiffer. The lady twirled the Swiffer and ran after the chickens who ran for the fence and squeezed thru the 3 by 3 inch holes, getting a bit of a shock as they did so. Bjarta ran the other way.

Pretty soon, the lady had to go in, and the Blowing started, and it blew and it blew and the big, wet drops started to rain down like shards, and it rumbled, and she tumbled. For a while the berry bushes and Bjarta's feathers kept her dry, but it kept blowing, and blowing, and raining....and the lady was gone.

Bjarta tried to get in the fence, but was blown back into the sunflowers. Poor Bjarta. After the Blowing, it started to get dark and the lady came to close up the coop and Bjarta was still not in it. Bjarta would end up the main course for a coyote, or big cat. Bjarta ran for the fence but could not get thru. Bjarta was in big trouble. panic set in.

She saw the lady who feeds her and yells, 'Chick, chick, chick chiiiiiiick.' Would the lady hit her with that funny Swiffer thing, even though Bjarta didn't see it? Where was that lady hiding that big stick? Bjarta never saw her hit anything with it, but, there is a first time for everything. Why carry it if you are not going to use it?

Bjarta once heard something about carrying a big stick, some famous human said it, but she could not remember what it was. Oh, it just didn't matter now. What mattered was getting in the coop.

Bjarta made a jump for the holes in the fence and got stuck. The lady came closer and closer and Bjarta tried to get in harder and harder and the more she wiggled, the more stuck she got. She was wet and tired.

Bjarta was too tired to fight and figured she would end up in soup. This was a bad Blowing in the Wind. Instead, Bjarta was picked up and dried off, petted on the head, and put on the top roost in the coop, where it was warm and dry. That beat being on the lower ones, where anything could drop from the top.

Moral.....sometimes we have storms in life....it is hard to outrun them. At times we must rely on the kindness of strangers....with Swiffers.

OK,...so there is no moral....I had to tell some one the story. BTW, Bjarta stuck around the coop today.

This is why I love this forum.....it is so....well, therapeutic.