The Swimming Chicken

25th September 2008

I decided to walk Tzouma via scooter this morning. In other words I woke up a little late and, wanting to do a few things around the house, chose the easy option… bike to Paradisos Taverna, park on the road, walk down the dirt slope and walk the length of Vromolithos beach. This only differs from the norm by cutting out a 15 minute walk from Panteli and of course 15 minutes back. There’s a new dog at Tony’s Beach apartments, 7 months old and Tzouma likes him one day and hates him the next. The days that she likes him she alllows herself to be chased up and down and gets a great kick out of him not being able to catch her. He’s kind of Pointer-like and a bit gangly. She of course is like a small whippet and dashes at great speed.

So there we were, between Katerina’s house (she who used to work at Laskarina before it shut down, is Greek-Australian) and Frango’s taverna (happily still open as it turned out). The front of Katerina’s house is on the road, the back, on the beach.

I was listening to an audio-book – The Green Mile by Stephen King as it happened – and a bit distracted. I became aware of a commotion up ahead. There was a chicken on the beach – then in the sea - followed hotly by Tzouma.

I screeched “LEAVE”. Tzouma is usually obedient (unless there’s a dog she particularly wants to play with, somebody offering food, a dead something on the beach or of course, a cat she wants to chase). She grabbed the chicken by its leg and hauled it out of the sea, said chicken opening and closing its beak. I shouted “LEAVE” again and she did, backing off. The leg was intact – I don’t think Tzouma knew what to do with it and hadn’t had an intention of hurting it.

I, in the meantime was dashing down the beach, kicking off my crocks (forgetting they were rather good over stones and in the sea), dropping backpack and wading into the sea. I grabbed the chicken, a sodden collection of feathers by now and splashed back onto the beach. Tzouma of course was highly interested and followed me as I started for Katerina’s house as an educated guess told me it was hers. She had complained on more than one occasion that dogs chased her chickens. The fact that her chickens should be more secure is neither here nor there.

She has a high wall with bamboo at the outer edges but these pesky chickens do seem to find their way out or stuck in the bamboo. I shouted “Katerina” at the top of my lungs but no response was forthcoming. Hmmm. I walked back along the beach with soggy chicken and excited dog, stepping into my crocks and grabbing my backpack with one hand while balancing the chicken in the other. It wasn’t a very big chicken and didn’t squirm. Along to Frango’s and to the door of the taverna where he was working in the kitchen. Frango looked at me, then the chicken, then the dog. I explained what had happened… my Greek is certainly up to chicken (being careful to use the word for live chicken as opposed to that which you buy in a shop to cook), sea, Katerina. He asked if I wanted a box. “Yes please” I replied. He brought me a nice-sized cardboard box and I put it on a tree-stump and carefully placed the chicken in it. As it happens I have Katerina’s phone number (long story) and I phoned her.

Me:“Hi Katerina, it’s Jo”. Pause while she works out who I am.
K: “Oh, hi Jo”.
Me: “Katerina, I think I have one of your chickens here, it’s been in the sea and it’s a bit wet. I’m at Frango’s”.
K: “Oh, I have to go to Agia Marina to meet a boat, I can’t come now - can you put it next to my front door? Is it in a box?”
Me: Yes, Frango’s given me a box. Is the front door the one on the road (picturing myself with dog and chicken-in-a-box trudging up the road)? Um, I’m on my bike”.
K: “Well just leave it at the back door.”
Me: “The one on the beach?
K: “(sigh) Yes, up the steps and through the gate”
Me: “Yes I can do that, is your gate unlocked”
K: (voice implying I must be a bit thick) “yes, of course”
Me: “Ok, I’ll do that”
K: “thanks Jo”
“Bye”

A brief conversation with Frango who told me in great detail how to get into Katerina’s property. I thanked him and left.

So once more I walked up the beach to Katerina’s house. Up the steps, at the top of which is a platform about 5ft square, has no railing and is about 10ft above the beach, edged around her gate once I’d found the bolt and opened it, walked onto her avli and deposited the box with the (no hope in hell of surviving in my opinion) chicken next to her door. Edged back around the gate narrowly avoiding pitching myself onto the beach and back down the stairs.

Tzouma and I continued our walk with no further complications.

Afterword: The chicken was dead by the time Katerina got home. Next time I saw her she told me and asked for a blow-by-blow account. I don’t think she thought Tzouma had managed to get onto her land (high wall) but I’m not certain.