The Saga Of Bowling Pin Chicken

If you haven’t read “To Freedom And Stupidity!” ignore everything and read that post first. Or just raise a toast to the deadest dumbest duck in this time zone. (Or chalk up the whole thing to Cabin Fever?)

You’re still here? In case you’ve no idea what’s up with the duck… I made this post to document one of the freest (and dumbest) creatures on Curmudgeon Compound. I’m gonna’ miss the little imbecile.

It’s a reminder to us all. Freedom isn’t about eggheads pondering the Federalist papers. Personality and moxie are where it’s at. Links that tell the story of Bowling Pin Chicken (in rough chronological order) are below:

Homestead Update #1. July 13, 2015:

“You’re a chicken understand? Just accept that you’re a chicken.”

Homestead Update #2. July 14, 2015:

“The ducks stood about six feet away in their square… radiating stupidity. They were my problem now.”

Homestead Update #3. July 15, 2015:

“I named the brown and white one “skidmark”… …The world is full of predators but the duck mind must be full of pastels and glitter.”

Homestead Update #4. July 16, 2015:

“…a bold night-time raid took out several chickens and three of the four ducks. I named this unseen predator Vladimir Putin… Skidmark, the sole remaining duck, was a changed creature. He took up residence under my truck. Skidmark got a new name and became Truck Duck.”

Bowling Pin Chicken Is Dead. September 6, 2015:

“The surviving duck, which had the size, shape, and intelligence of a bowling pin, started hanging out and acting like the chickens. Thus, his newest name, Bowling Pin Chicken.”

“Bowling Pin Chicken totally rejected the chickens and decided he was pals with the pigs. He had become Sub-Bacon.”

“…It has been three days. I see no errant feathers. No sign of a struggle. No duck bits. The pigs aren’t talking. I have no idea what happened.”

I’m Back / The Duck Is Back. September 23, 2015:

“Where the hell have you been?”

“Quack!”

Bowling Pin Chicken Just Doesn’t Care What I Think. November 5, 2015:

“I’m impressed by that level of “don’t give a shit”… …that stupid duck simply doesn’t give a rip. It’s not in his nature. He’d be just as happy swimming in a radioactive shark tank as a National Park.”

A Mystery. November 23, 2015:

“…I waved a flashlight around and prowled the vicinity. I was looking for either chickens or carcasses. Amid the wind and gloom I found neither. …I heard an angry quack and noticed Bowling Pin Chicken (a duck) was there… …Where did the missing chickens go? I have no idea. Perhaps the brutal wind confused them (or blew them to the next county)? Maybe a coyote ate ’em?”

Rookie Redemption. November 25, 2015:

“Sometime between sunset and dawn the remaining chickens had “broken in”… …and were happily picking away at a “coop” area that was theoretically off limits… Off in the distance I heard Bowling Pin Chicken (a duck) quacking in his usual Gilbert Godfrey voice. I was tempted to check the odometer on my truck. Had they gone on a beer run while I was sleeping?”

To Freedom And Stupidity! February 16, 2016: