OMG. I opened the freezer door and a frozen chicken flew off the shelf and hit me on my right shin and landed on my left foot. OUCH! I will be hobbling to Ca.
Donna--May I suggest a different title? Something like Alfred Hitchcock's Attack of 'The Birds' Redux?
You are suppose to keep the chickens in the hen house. I hope your foot is O.K. You leave for CA tomorrow? Jerry
Oh dear, Donna. I guess it was making one last attempt at escaping and going south for the winter. Well, he made it south alright (your shin and foot will attest to that), but the escape was not complete.
Donna, you have my sympathies. I, too, have been attacked by a chicken. He was not frozen, nor even slightly chilled. Cyrus was his name (notice that all this is in the past tense). He flew at me, tried to peck me, and was a nasty piece of work. He left shortly after I decided he wasn't going to mellow out. I had no idea that frozen chickens were dangerous, also. People, beware of feathered felons' attacks!
