February 9, 2011
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I’m really feeling for my chickens. They don’t love the snow and cold weather like I do. In fact, they really hate it, and I can understand why. Skinny little bare feet and legs–at least I have boots and socks. They have to be tough!
We’ve all heard the expression, “tough old bird,” and whoever coined the phrase must have been talking about a rooster. Roosters are genuinely tough. My sort-of-dear, departed Delbert survived even my attempts at killing him a time or two (and I was sincere in my efforts–just not good enough with my aim!) That was way back in the day, long before I realized that even though he could be totally obnoxious, Delbert really did a good job of taking care of his girls.
So when he died last fall, I wondered if one of Delbert’s sons would be up to the job of head rooster. Delbert Junior (DJ) and Delbert the Third (DT) looked and acted so much like their daddy that I had hope. I don’t know how the issue was decided, but DJ stepped up to the plate…or the fence…or whatever. He took over, putting his brother in his place as inferior rooster, and taking charge. There was no question of his authority….DJ was IN CHARGE. So much that he banished DT to the outside world, not even letting him sleep in the henhouse. Honestly, sometimes DJ reminded me so much of Delbert that I forgot he was Junior.
Last week DJ’s cockiness (sorry!) got the best of him. A nasty hawk had been hovering around, checking out the fowl, and I guess they looked too juicy to pass up. He attacked, and DJ came to the hen’s rescue. Only he didn’t have quite enough experience, because the hawk got him. Got him down and killed him. A hawk half the size of DJ did him in.
DT is now the lone rooster, but he doesn’t seem to know it yet. He’s still sleeping in a tree (right outside our window, where he announces morning long before its official arrival) and he still hasn’t figured out that he has the girls all to himself.
There is the promise of warmer days ahead, and when the ground is once again bare and the chickens a little more lively, maybe DT will remember that he’s a rooster and get back to work. Meanwhile, the girls are toughing it out alone in the henhouse. Winter just isn’t their favorite season. But there is one comfort….that hawk won’t be bothering them anymore.
Comments (10)
Read this to Wil and we both had a chuckle.
My grandmother had chickens. She would butcher and clean one from time to time to fry for breakfast or dinner. One morning, when I was about 10, she mentioned she had a sick rooster that had to be put down and soon saw its headless body running around the outside of the house. Later we had guests for dinner where I announced we were eating sick rooster. She had actually removed the rooster and a hen that morning.
I love your chicken and rooster stories – but I don’t like that a hawk got DJ.
Are you saying you shot the Hawk? I found myself sorta pitying DJ. You are such a gifted writer. Love coming to your site for a good read.
A good read for sure! Thanks for the laugh.
I’m wondering how my hens are this morning. It is minus 13 at the moment, and I haven’t been out to the barn yet. They are probably still hunkered together on their roost. I don’t have any roosters!
I remember going to my Grandpa & Grandma’s farm. They had a lot of chickens and guiennies. I can’t remember seeing them when I went and visited while snow was on the ground. -maybe Grandma kept them inside the barn?
I too, am wondering why the hens have no worry of the hawk. I’m wondering if you had took good aim and got him.
I take it that one of you eliminated the hawk. I hope you’re doing OK in this latest storm. We won’t get any of it…it’s passing south of us.
Janet, this is such a great story! It’s stuck in my head for days, which, I suppose, is what a really good story does. Hope you’ll keep us posted on DT.