|(NOTE: Real Feta is considerably less red in the head/claw region than the chicken pictured above.|
An impostor chicken was used for the "LOST!" poster, as real Bok was MIA.)
On the morning of January 8, I snapped the below photo of Cash & Lola. As I zoomed in closer to look at the picture, I gasped and chills spread throughout my body when I realized that our loyal compadre, Bok, was not in his trusty protector's hand. (For all you newbies, Bok -- also known as Feta -- is literally the ONLY thing in the whole wide world that Lola has ever voluntarily held onto, her rubbery roommate, her feathery-yet-non-feathery, feta-cheese-stankin' friend, her poultry partner-in-crime, her yellow yardbird, her chickeny chum. I could go on all. day. long!) Yes, it is common for Feta & Lola to "break up" or be "on a break" several times a day. She frequently drops him like a bad habit, and they live the single life for the rest of the day. Other times, he falls from her tight grasp and gets kicked under the couch. Not today, friends. Not today.
|#CashandLola ~ BFF's times infinity|
Nope, today was a different story entirely. I checked all the usual locations for that little pecker, and he was nowhere to be found. He wasn't under either couch, either ottoman, the chair, Claire's beanbag, or on top of the ottoman. He wasn't on the kitchen counter drying with the g-tube extensions after a good cleaning/bath. He wasn't on the tray with all the remote controls and pens and essential oils (yep, I'm one of THOSE people!). I even pulled up all the couch cushions to check for his lifeless, little body, to no avail. What the cluck?!?! Where WAS he?!?!
At this point, I was beginning to assume Cash had come into play with our beloved Bok. I began to fear the worst. Was he residing within a certain someone's colon and/or in a dung pile in our back yard? If so, could he be saved? And if he were miraculously found & saved, could he still be Lola's sidekick if I boiled him, or would that be wrong?! I almost went outside to look, but then I opted against it. (Hey, why do all my posts somehow end up circling back around to discussing shit?! It's like the Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon except in turd form. WTH!?!?) Instead, I decided to bust out a backup Bok. I know, I know. TOO SOON. I get it. I didn't want to believe he was gone either. But Lola seemed distressed, so I caved. I dug out my bag of alternate Fetas, removed the keychain ring (don't judge, it was the only 3" rubber chickens I could find on Amazon), and stuck that trickster in her hand.
|Save yourself, Feta! Don't fall deeper into the dark abyss!|
At precisely that moment, Scott got home from work. The garage door opened, he walked in, and I yelled, "Bok's been lost! I couldn't find him anywhere & I looked EVERYWHERE! I finally figured out that he might have gotten wrapped up or hidden in a blanket & accidentally thrown in the washer with the dirty clothes & so I went to look & I shook out a blanket & he went airborne & somehow ended up almost plummeting to his death between the washer! Look where he landed! HE WENT THROUGH A WHOLE 57 MINUTE WASH LOAD! I am so glad he is found because fake Bok sucks!!!!!" To which Scott calmly replied, "We must save him." He quickly rushed out to the garage and returned with this...
|Soaring high above the Machine of Doom... with aforementioned Blanket from Hell in foreground|
|I've got ya', little fella...|
|They say that pale combs on top of chickens' heads indicate illness or disease...|
|Stay with me, Bok!!!|
|Don't go to the light... NO! Don't do it!!!!|
Stay tuned for the gripping conclusion of Feta's rescue... Will he survive? Will he succumb to the light?