I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. Evening has settled in. It is almost snacking, Picture Box-watching bedtime for me and Lady Human and… wait…what’s that infernal racket?
Me: One of the chickens is squawking about something. Let me go see.
Stella: Me, too! I’m in charge here. Hey, what’s all that noise? Be quiet!
Me: There’s a loud rumbling from somewhere. Probably a big truck. Shhh. It’s okay. Settle down.
Stella: Why did she settle down when you said to? She ignored me. That’s just plain wrong.
Me: They like it when I shush them. I guess they like the sound. It’ll be dark soon. They’ll go to sleep.
Stella: Is she like a guard dog, only she’s a watch chicken? How did that happen?
Me: I don’t know. Loud noises can stir them up.
Stella: Nope. Dogs watch and guard. Not chickens. What does she think she’s going to do? Chase off a dog or a human? I’d like to see that. Chickens chasing people.
Me: It happens. Depends on how irritated the chicken is.
Stella: I wouldn’t try it if I were her. No chicken is ever going to out irritate a bulldog.
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