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Elvis and Fido
Elvis. One of our two-week old roosters is named Elvis. I know. I know. I was not supposed to name any of our future chicken nuggets, but it was inevitable. He is not, however, named after the singer, may he rest in peace. He is named after another cock who had an incident with Fido, one of our German Shepherds, on a visit to the vet.
About six years ago, on a routine vet visit in suburban Jersey Fido was examined and passed the vet's tests with flying colors. And we headed to the desk to pay for their services. This particular vet's set-up is quite curious since the reception area, waiting room and exam room are all one, and cats, dogs and - yes - chickens, meet and greet. This day it was almost meat and grit.
Fido is a medium built Shepherd and at the time only three years old, but projects an impressive doggality imposing his own will when one least expects it. To be fair, on this occasion he didn't have to do a thing but stare.
The vet's rooster, a stray adopted by the staff (they also have a chicken named Priscilla) walked about and around Fido keeping his distance throughout the exam. Elvis climbed up onto the receptionist's desk just as we were about to pay for the consultation. Fido sat on the floor next to me and, like Godzilla rising out of the water, he raised his monstrous head slowly over the counter's edge. His body never moved. Ever so slowly he stretched his neck upwards pushing his mammoth head by stages into full view of Elvis.
The unassuming cock first saw a pair of ears rise out of the abyss. Elvis stretched his neck forward to see. Somewhere Jaws music thumped announcing the beast's approach. Next a mean pair of eyes stared back at the fowl. Elvis stretched his neck back as far as it could go. The snorting snout could now be seen followed by a menacing mandible. Elvis' right leg rose and...
Suddenly a screech was heard from the secretary, "Oh my! He shit as big as a cat!" Elvis was taken away and both desk and our pockets cleaned, we left the building without anymore incidents.
This true story repeated itself when I brought a tiny chick to meet Fido at his dog motel so the dog would get used to seeing the bird. Once again the dog stared, the bird stood its ground and clean-up time followed.
Hence, the bird's named Elvis.