Rooster
I was looking out of the window today and watching a couple of our banty chickens maneuver over the top of the snow (still 18 inches) and had to smile. Yesterday we got a few more inches and as they walked every 3rd step or so would sink in lower. They were staggering like a bunch of drunks. Finally, one flew the rest of the way and the rest followed. I was so concentrating on them; I didn’t even notice the herd of elk grazing just behind them.
(Working on this, I also was concentrating so much that dinner will be blacker than planned) These pain killers have my brain fried.
While watching the chickens I was especially interested in the one we call Rooster. He hatched out in the spring of 2002 or 2003. His father was one of the meanest roosters I had ever had, attacking both Astro and I any time he got the chance. He would roost up high and come flying down at me with his feet forward going right for my face. I really hated that rooster and would club him with anything handy. No matter what I hit him with, he kept coming back for more. He was also after Astro every time, flying into his face and chest. Astro took it gracefully for a long time and then one day had enough. Feathers flew everywhere and he never bothered Astro again. From then on I tried to keep Astro between us.
We had a bumper crop of chicks that spring with about half being roosters. As they got older, all but three got mean like their Daddy. Those three I called the musketeers and they protected me from the others diligently. Eventually, they ran the others off the property and kept them gone. Life was peaceful around here.
When winter came, we had a cougar that would come by every 10 days and have a chicken or two for a snack and eventually the chicken population was down to nothing. I still had the Reds, but as nice as they are, I missed my musketeers.
The next Spring it was time to get ready for a whole new crop of Reds (Rhode Island Reds) and a new batch of banties. I went out to the chicken house to get it ready and when I walked in there stood one of my musketeers. I picked him up and he cuddled under my neck. I cried. From that time on his name was Rooster. When the new chicks came home, he mothered them for me and taught my new red rooster who was boss as he grew up.
This last spring we were over run with chickens so I was giving away lots of them. I had decided not to have any banty roosters at all, but when it came time to hand over Rooster, I couldn’t. He snuggled under my neck again and that did me in.
Now he’s king of the chickens that run loose in the yard. Each morning I hear him crow before the sun even dares to come up and it is a welcome sound. I dread the day when I don’t hear it anymore. (The Rhode Island Red rooster hasn’t mastered crowing yet and probably never will) Rooster’s blind in one eye and the only time I can actually pet him is when he is roosting at night. Not once has he bit me.
Have a great day!!!
