The One Where The Health Inspector Visits.

Dashing out the house yesterday, to spend the morning relieving myself of the stresses and strains of being so fab, two men were just coming in(to) the garden.
One introduced himself , said he was Mr Blue Mountain from the Dept of Health and his loyal sidekick was a vet, going in this incarnation, by the name of Mr East. Nice to meet you both, How can I help you and can we make it quick, downward dog awaits.
They said they had come about the chicken. Could they take a look.
Sure, knock yourselves out, but please let me get to downward dog, they said they had had a complaint about the early morning alarm system we had running.
I said I had asked all my neighbours and they were more than gung-ho for us to keep him, they came to play, they’d started a fan club, they were organising a fund to send him to Marbella for his holidays.
They checked out his lodgings and gave me a big thumbs up, said they were splendid, a chicken spa indeed.
They noted his hay, his food, his glorious colour, his cheeky grin and deemed us worthy of keeping him.
‘No laws against it’.
Said maybe we could chuck a blanket over the coop at night maybe muffle the early morning sound a bit.
I pointed out that it’s boiling hot, most people sleep with the windows open, when things cool down, the sound won’t be quite so LOUD!!. They agreed.
After chatting a while, they said maybe we were over scheduling him, and we should make him choose between abacus and Chinese lessons, perhaps not both, but they loved that we have him in self-esteem workshops on Saturday mornings.
It’s a man-eat-chicken world, we have to give him every possible advantage.
Hope we get the same glowing review when someone calls CPS.

6 thoughts on “The One Where The Health Inspector Visits.

  1. Do you think the chicken police are a subdivision of the trash police or an entirely separate division?

    I will refrain from saying how typically Japanese to welcome the chicken with open arms then bitch about him behind his back.

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