from my bedroom window i can see my samoan neighbor’s front yard. the house serves as a gathering spot for his friends and family to get together, which is just plain sweet.

often, when the weather is mild, they will hang out, playing cards or just shooting the breeze.

tonight a few of them were sitting down to a friendly game of cards when i saw a head i recognized pop up at the table.

it was lacey, our youngest chicken.

yep. three burly samoan men were gathered at the table dealing cards and lacey just hopped on up into a vacant chair like she belonged there.

but the cutest part is that the guys barely missed a beat.

they sort of glanced over at her, nodded, and kept right on playing.

after a few minutes (with me watching and wondering how this was gonna play out and why playing cards suddenly held such fascination for grub-eating poultry) i watched lacey sort of inch her way closer to one of the guys.

hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm. this was getting curiouser and curiouser.

so i moved closer to the window and watched as lacey ate snacks out of the guy’s hand.

oh. of course.

the 350 pound samoan guy was letting my chicken eat nibbles out of his enormous bear paw.

this hulk of a fellow- this giant of a man who could wilt mere mortals just by glancing in their direction- had not only been seduced by my chicken, but was clearly such a marshmallow that he was giving treats to my spoiled bird at his poker table.

put this one in the books folks: sometimes truth really is stranger than fiction.

as pat forman says, “may the flock be with you”.