Peepless Brooklyn

Part I of a three part series chronicling Peep's departure from the Big Apple and her return to Connecticut.

A friend recently envisioned Peep's return home:

I have no doubt that you will raise Peep to be a strong and confident chicken, a bird of uncommon street smarts and technological literacy, and that she will one day return to your mother's farm in triumph.

Dear readers, I'm afraid that this eloquent prediction failed to materialize. The story of Peep's departure will take more than one post, but I'll skip ahead far enough to report that Peep is back on the farm and that Brooklyn is a lonelier place for it. I'm thinking of adopting enough of these cuties to create a mess-free aviary.

But back to the story. The weekend started off well enough. Friday night, Peep said her goodbyes to Brooklyn and all the treats she will miss. Her roommates were sad to see her go, but Peep was stoic. I loaded up the Jeep, which was parked on the corner of my block in front of a brand-new wine bar & restaurant. So new, in fact, that they were having an opening night party there. The guests, lounging on the outdoor patio, seemed amused by my trips to the car, first with my head obscured with an unwieldy bag of laundry, and then with an enormous peeping cardboard box into which I was singing the ABCs. They laughed and smiled, sipped their wine. No one offered to help. Brooklynites.

So we hit the highway and left the borough behind, arriving at my childhood home in just about three peep-full hours. The house was quiet; Peep received an enthusiastic welcome nonetheless. Peep reading her sign. I think my Dad could have a second career as an artist :)

Bird Song of the Day: Hundreds of Sparrows - Sparklehorse