As he lays dying I feel myself compelled to write about him. Rooster - male domestic chicken. I will miss him. He was a flying Ninja, capable of inflicting a 2 inch hole into whatever he hit with his talons. I don't know yet what could have brought him down so quickly. About 3 mornings back we found him not crowing,,, his head down and his proud beautiful tail sagging. He had blood coming from both sides of his head but was not missing any feathers. Nothing can get into the chicken pen except a snake and I can't imagine him sticking his neck out for a predator on the outside. Even if he did that, he would be missing feathers at the least. I'm certain if he was dumb enough to stick his head out at something it would have taken his head off. And that's not his "MO".... he charges with his talons in mid flight. Once he has taken his last breath I will examine him and I feel certain I will find fang marks. I hope he delivered a few wounds to whatever it was.
He was so strong and proud as he strutted through the pen calling out his cockle doodle doo at daylight and actually any time he felt like it! I never could figure out his schedule. He protected his harem from anything that came near and they all loved him dearly. He never slept in the roost but instead stood guard all night perched just outside the opening. He was a true gentleman, always allowing the girls to eat first whenever compost was tossed into the pen. However he was very amorous and sometimes the girls resisted his amorous advances but he got his way.
I've always had a fondness for roosters, actually I have many ceramic and wooden ones in my kitchen. There is just something so regal about them as they "strut their stuff". We raised this guy from a chick and I had dreams of him becoming a pet. The first time he charged me I was shocked. He got me on the thumb with his talon and I dropped the eggs I had just gathered....fleeing for my life.
I have to admit that there were times when I wanted to kill him myself when I went to gather eggs and he would attack me. I had to take a long handled rake covered in a bright cloth into the pen for protection. He was terribly afraid of that...but I never hit him with it. He learned respect for my husband as all the animals around here seem to have done. Is it the sound of the man voice or the toe of a boot? Whatever it is, I don't have it. Not a creature on this ranch respects me! I believe they all say to themselves, "Oh, here comes the soft spoken one with food and pats. We can get away with anything with her." The rooster was no different!
As he lays dying his flock is gathered around him. Occasionally one hen will give him a little peck and it will rouse him for a second and then he goes back into the business of dying. I will miss my King of the Roost.
He was so strong and proud as he strutted through the pen calling out his cockle doodle doo at daylight and actually any time he felt like it! I never could figure out his schedule. He protected his harem from anything that came near and they all loved him dearly. He never slept in the roost but instead stood guard all night perched just outside the opening. He was a true gentleman, always allowing the girls to eat first whenever compost was tossed into the pen. However he was very amorous and sometimes the girls resisted his amorous advances but he got his way.
I've always had a fondness for roosters, actually I have many ceramic and wooden ones in my kitchen. There is just something so regal about them as they "strut their stuff". We raised this guy from a chick and I had dreams of him becoming a pet. The first time he charged me I was shocked. He got me on the thumb with his talon and I dropped the eggs I had just gathered....fleeing for my life.
As he lays dying his flock is gathered around him. Occasionally one hen will give him a little peck and it will rouse him for a second and then he goes back into the business of dying. I will miss my King of the Roost.
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