Any long time follower of the oopoomoo blog knows about our Chain Mail Chickens. Our four rubber chickens have traveled the world and been photographed on their adventures by many of our photographer friends. Three of our chickens; Stu Pott, Cluckin Chuck, and Peter Pecker made safe returns to our chicken coop back home in Cochrane, Alberta. Somewhere out there Larry Lays-Two-Eggs went missing in action. Last we heard him he was in transit between the British Columbia and Florida… we suspect he may have been fried somewhere in Kentucky but we hold out hope he escaped the 11 herbs and spices. If you see him in a bucket somewhere, do let us know!
We took two of the chickens with us to Trochu for our Buicks, Badlands and Old Buildings photography workshop in August. We often torture our photography students with a hard assignment because “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger”. We chose Al Dixon, a faithful oopoomoo disciple, to tackle the hard assignment of taking the two chickens and making a ghost story photo essay in 2 hours! Well, Al blew us away with his results and we present them here as:
The Tragic Tale of Clucksburg by Al Dixon
Our story starts with a plucky little chap named Cluckin Chuck, who struck out from the safety of his family’s coop in search of his own destiny. His original plan of striking it rich as a prospector & gold miner soon came to an end, due to his pathetic lack of upper wing strength. Not to be deterred, he soon opened a saloon to ensure his miner friends were well refreshed after a long hard day. Soon, others began to settle in the area and a town was born. The residents named the town Clucksburg, in honor of its founder.
Chuck was a lovable sort of fellow… the kind of guy that would give anyone a feather off his back. His saloon was always full, and Chuck was commonly seen visiting with his customers.
The whole town was a buzz with the news of Chuck’s impending nuptials. He was due to wed the beautiful Hot Wings Hettie. Being the towns only school teacher, she was know by all and had many a suitor.
One such suitor was another prominent resident of Clucksburg, Dr. Stu Pott. Dr. Pott begrudgingly came to town after his many failed attempts to secure a position in a prestigious big city hospital. He felt being a small town doctor was well beneath him, and he ruffled more than a few feathers in town with his pompous attitude. He spent most of his time writing paper after paper in an attempt to escape this small town. The only bright spot he saw in town was Hot Wings. News of her upcoming wedding to Chuck only intensified his hatred for the groom-to-be.
After several heated discussions over the course of a couple of weeks, the town was rocked by tragic news. Chuck had been found stabbed in the kitchen of his saloon. Although there were no witnesses, not a soul in town doubted who the culprit was. The irony, though, was as the town’s doctor; Stu was the only one who could save Chuck.
While receiving what was less than stellar care, Chuck continued to fight and slowly started to get better.
Soon he was strong enough to get out of bed only to fall victim to a massive stomach infection. After a few days, Chuck’s valiant battle was lost.
The town mourned the loss of its Founder. Hot Wings spoke eloquently the service, and not a dry eye was to be found. The funeral was attended by all but one of the townsfolk.
Life for Dr. Stu Pott became much harder with the passing of Chuck. The town had lost a beloved friend, but try as they may they could not prove his guilt. Revenge, however, was Chuck’s to be had. Many said that they spotted his ghost haunting the office of Dr. Pott on numerous occasions. Soon the constant harassment became too much, and Stu left town.
After Chuck’s passing, Hot Wings took over the saloon and ran it until she passed away at the age of 85. To this day, many say you can still see Chuck’s presence around the table he once shared with his friends.
Hot Wings, however, never did forget what Stu Pott did to her beloved and her spirit holds a grudge to this day. A word of caution… if you do come to the saloon for a meal; whatever you do, do not order the stew…