Blue_Opossum

Morning of October 15, 1977. Saturday.



I go out to the chicken shed and notice that our turkens (who naturally have no feathers on their necks as a main feature of the breed), also called Transylvanian naked necks and wrongly (rather stupidly) believed to be a cross between a chicken and a turkey by some as well as of the widely mistaken belief that they do not crow (they actually crow louder and more often than other roosters, just with a lower pitch due to their bigger size). They are also not “rare” in North America as claimed by Wikipedia. They were actually more common than a lot of other exotic breeds in the region we lived in, in Florida in the 1970s. Thus, even a breed of a chicken generates several myths and invalid ideas; tells me all I need to know about people regarding any potential for general credibility.

At any rate, in my dream, the necks of our turkens are very long and serpentine and giving me an eerie feeling that they might become dangerous, even venomous. In another part of the same dream, a pet young black-and-white Polish rooster named “Sluggo”, very similar in appearance to a French mottled Houdan (of which I had a rooster of one called “Fonzie” and his hen “Pinkie”) is not moving as he is facing towards me. After a time, I understand that he is completely flat (front to back, while standing), and perhaps not alive (I am not sure - but being alive in such a form seems worse than not) and feel even more eerie and “out-of-place”. Time passes, and a group of miniature (not bantam, just “shrunken”) various hens are doing the can-can and for some reason, giving me a nightmarish feeling. Some of the small quail we have in a larger cage on the ground in the shed seem to explode, but they are still there afterwards somehow, in sort of blurred patterns with very ruffled feathers. I awake feeling nervous and ill, but am not actually ill a few minutes later.