Monday, October 13, 2008

Dead Roosters and Other Happenings

I TOLD him it would happen.

As soon as we knew that Henrietta was actually Henry, I said he had to go.

We got chickens this year around Easter. I love them. I love the eggs. We SPECIFICALLY picked out all girls. Or so we thought!

Growing up in the city, animals were pets. Period. So I'm learning about this country life, and the fact that you can actually HAVE an animal, NOT have it be a pet, and EAT it if you want. Whoa. We have thus started small, with chickens. They are so funny to watch...they run around the yard and chase birds.

I only named 2 of them, so I wouldn't get attached. We had 20 all together, but one died about 2 days after we got it. Yes, I bawled like a baby. I made Doug bury it.

Anywho...I digress. Henrietta, one beautiful bird that I named, started crowing one day. Well, crap. That meant Henrietta was really Henry, and we had to decide what to do. I wanted to find a home for Henry right away, although if you've never seen a rooster crow up close and personal it's quite entertaining. It appears as if, at the end of the cock-a-doodle-doo, that Henry's eyeballs were about to pop out from the strain. I didn't realize roosters could have expressive faces. HYSTERICAL. I laughed so hard I almost peed.

Then, when Doug's back was at it's worst, I was going out in the morning to let the chickens out. Day One: uneventful. Day Two: the attack. I opened the chicken door on the near side first. Mistake. By the time I opened the far door, and walked back to the gate, Henry attacked. I had shorts on. He charged and pecked my leg. I turned and punted. Even though his wings were clipped, Henry flew.

I told Doug, if he ONCE goes after Jacob, I will kill him myself.

Well, Saturday It Happened. Doug had the gate open, and the chickens were milling about, and I felt very proud of my fowl ownership and newly acquired egg-collecting skills. Then, I saw that Henry was out. I placed myslef in between Jacob and Henry, ready to go on the offense. Somehow, Henry skirted me while Jacob took off running, and Henry flew right into him, pecked his nose, and knocked him down.

Now, I am NOT a proponent of cruelty to animals. It was purely the Mama Bear in me. I kicked that rooster harder than I thought I could. He was pretty tough though...he went down and immediately got up for more.

So Doug came out and I said, "Get your gun."

He didn't listen, so I said, "I'm serious."

He said, "Um, why?"

I said, "Because I'm going to shoot Henry."

Something about my choice or words, the half crazed glare in my eyes, or maybe the gravel in my voice and the screaming child in my arms had something to do with it. But the man said nothing, turned back to the house, and got the gun. I wanted to do it, but apparently something about my lunatic state prevented my husband from giving me a loaded firearm. So, he did the deed.

We started plucking, but he didn't even have enough meat on him to bother. He was all beak and feathers. I asked Doug if he wanted another feather pillow, but he passed. So we buried Henry too.

The other major event Saturday was that I actually got my trach in all by myself. I couldn't beleive it. Last year at this time I wouldn't let anyone but the doctor TOUCH it, and swore I'd pass out if I ever had to do it. It's amazing what you CAN do if you have to. This was a MAJOR event for me, but reading this back, it really pales in comparison to the rooster. {Sigh.}

Have a good one!


Joanna said...

(gasp, pant, wheez) That is hilarious!! When I read he pecked at your leg I was thinking oh no he dih-ant! But I slid out of my chair with the thought of you punting that buzzard half way out of the yard. heehee

And you burried it. *snort*

Leigh said...

Kickin' rooster behind and putting in your trach?!? What a woman!!! :D

Laura said...

Lol, I remember when we had roosters as a kid. My brothers each had one. One would get on the schoolbus and the other one would chase anyone who ran in the yard.

Our neighbor just got chickens. They thought they had all girls too. Then the boy started learning how to crow. I must say that it is something they learn as the first week or so was just hysterical with him trying.

They ended up shooting the rooster too!

Kerri said...

LOL Hey Laura! It IS funny when they start crowing. It sounds pretty sad at first! But then he just got louder and louder...

I heard they were mean, which is why we watned all hens. I will NEVER forget that stupid bird hitting Jacob...makes me want to shoot him again!!

Rachel said...


Jeanette said...

Glad you re-posted this. Very worth the read. So funny!

Louise Ducote said...

Roosters are so obnoxious and you certainly don't need them to get yummy eggs. Good for you, and Happy SITS Day!

KC said...

Haha. I'm glad your son is okay though. There is a place near my inlaws that have a ton of roosters. I couldn't imagine listening to them everyday.

anotherjennifer said...

This is why I'm not suited for rural life. Chickens, roosters and guns...oh my! Too funny.

misssrobin said...

That's quite a full day! Good for you for protecting your son. Sometimes you've just got to do the hard things.

And way to go with the trach. I thought giving myself a shot was hard (and it was). I imagine doing what you did would be even more so.

Yep, we acclimate and grow. In the right situation, we can do just about anything.

Anonymous said...

What is it about chickens that is so funny? This was way more dramatic than I thought it would be at the beginning. Glad you had someone to help pull the trigger. Visiting from SITS!

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