This little rooster was my good friend. A fox found our little family of chickens. It carried off a chicken every other day. The lone survivor was my friend, the rooster. He managed to last for a week and a half after his little wives had been killed. He was damn near crazy with loneliness and he would follow me around and stand next to me any time I left the house. I felt bad for him. He disappeared sometime today. He was a good rooster. He was kind to the hens and chicks. He wouldn't eat until they had eaten and wouldn't roost until he was sure they were safe. His little flock was prosperous and healthy under his leadership.
He had been hand raised by a young boy and he was always friendly and curious towards humans. He would eat out of my hand if the hens would let him. He would run to see me, flapping his wings and pausing to crow.
He was an uncommonly handsome bird. I will miss him.
4 comments:
It sucks to lose a friend, feathered or otherwise.
Aw I'm sorry about your rooster.
I like chickens live better than cooked, though I am not a vegetarian. My friend David keeps a small handful of them up in his upstate property. They're so social with each other; they're quite fun to watch.
Sad. And a little chilling.
The relentless pursuit of the fox, even it's just doing its thing.
Worse, too, to witness your flock being picked off one by one and have no recourse but to play the waiting game.
damn...that's sad jon...i'm sorry
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