The Rooster

Of course, it has rained for days, most of the chicken coop is mush, the water feeder is empty, the chicken feeder is upside down and the chickens and rooster are raising cane. I open the door to the coop to get the feeder upright and reset when the rooster spreads his wings, raises his feet and bumps his royal self at my head while his wily damsel pecked repeatedly at my helping hands. Yes, the big boy did take a tumble and looked rather surprised that his fighting abilities did not match mine nor did I cower in fear of his beautiful and majestic self! I don't want to inhibit his natural tendencies nor do I want spurs in my head. As for his little princess, if she doesn't start laying regularly, she is going in the cook pot. I am sure with all the feed she has consumed for the last 9 months, she will make a tasty pot of chicken and dumplings.

Henrietta is my best layer. She gives me an egg a day come rain or come shine and is mild mannered and would probably make a good pet if I spent some time with her. Miss Bessie lays when ready and ignores me as if I don't exist. It doesn't hurt my feelings, as long as the eggs keep coming. It is getting egg custard weather and I need more eggs than I am getting to keep a weekly custard supply.

My chickens do not get named until they start laying regularly. While I have no qualms to making dumplings out of the wily damsel, it really makes it easier if she has no name while I am in the process of wringing her beautiful neck. Raised on a farm, the processes of turning livestock into food does not bother me terribly. But I do rather treasure my pets.

I had a pet heifer (a female cow that has not had a calf) many years ago that had to be put down when injured by another cow while fighting over feed. The older and much bigger cow tipped Miss Blackie into the feed trough. No one was around during the process, but when found it was too late for Miss Blackie. Miss Blackie was stuck in the feed trough with four feet up in the air and no way to turn. After her untimely demise, she was processed (which I did not assist in) and enjoyed at many a meal by everyone except my sis. Sis did not eat beef for 6 months, afraid that she was eating Miss Blackie. As much as she was rubbed and petted, Miss Blackie had perfectly marbled meat that was full of flavor! I sure missed Miss Blackie, but I do thoroughly enjoy a good rare steak! Yeah, I know, red meat is bad for the cholesteral and when eating a rare steak, I am subjecting myself to all kind of germs.

Enough of the memories of youth. I could write all day on the adventures on a farm. Thanks for reading and have a happy week.

Belle