The Pigeon show

I Love the Pigeon Show. It’s not actually a pigeon show, at least not anymore. There was a time when a bunch of local guys brought their homing pigeons down to the livestock show ring at the college, but that’s only a minor part of this monthly gathering.
Now, it’s a flea market with a live-animal twist. Sure, there’s a few pigeons – and there’s the hourly pigeon drawing, where the lucky winner gets to bring home their own bird and get into the exciting hobby of pigeon racing. But there’s also pygmy goats and ducks and every variety of chicken known. There were peacocks this time and tons of puppies and kittens, although I can’t imagine there’s a huge consumer base for $450 pedigreed dogs at these things. Whole families come and stroll the booths. If there are any acquisitive antique dealers there -- the kind we've come to hate in rural Iowa -- I don't see them. Mostly they're at family auctions, outbidding the kids for grandma's heirlooms.
After by-passing the Elvis paraphernalia, the stacks of Reader’s Digest Condensed Books (do they even make those things anymore?) and the small engine parts, I found some old garden tools that looked sturdier than my new ones, a trio of shabby chic candlesticks (candles thrown in for free) and a clay casserole that may or may not hold up in the oven.
I kept looking at the chickens, though... I few chickens would keep the dog company.