We Swedes love our writing, and we love our chickens, so it should come as no surprise that chicken blogs have popped up like mushrooms all over the Swedish aether. One such blog is actually not from a Swede at all, but a Swedish-speaking Finn named Malin Klingenberg. I came to know about her blog by accidentally stumbling over one of its posts, that just happened to be one of the saddest and most emotionally moving pieces of writing I've ever come across.
Many years have gone by since I first read it, but I go back and read it occasionally, and it yet hasn't failed to bring tears to my eyes. As I've become a bit more active on this forum lately, I thought that I might share the story with you. I asked Malin for permission, and she granted it, and I translated it myself. The photos are also from the post and taken by Malin's husband, Caj Fors-Klingenberg.
I don't have any formal training in translating and may not be doing the original justice, but I can't seem to get beyond the third to last paragraph without choking up. Here is my translation:
Obituary for a beloved rooster
You might remember the rooster Sjuse? He who wandered astray. [Link to other blog post.]
Let me tell you his story.
While we went abroad at the start of the year, we got to keep our chicken flock at the place of an acquaintance, who also has chickens. Own, large and mighty chickens, with splendid roosters. When we picked up our chickens, she asked if we wanted a rooster into the bargain, an old one, who always got pecked on and teased by the other roosters. She thought he might get more peace in a smaller chicken run. We thanked and accepted.
The hierarchy can be harsh in a chicken run with several roosters and Sjuse (it's Idun who has come up with the name, where it came from I don't know) was really depressed when he came here. At first he mostly sat and looked around in a corner when the other chickens were awake, he didn't dare to come down. When the rest of the flock had fallen asleep for the night, he cautiously jumped down to eat. He didn't mix with the flock, but kept himself at bay.
This went on for a few weeks. But then, slowly, gradually, he got more comfortable in our chicken run. He increasingly often started to eat with the other chickens and became of the team.
Sjuse to the right.
Besides, Sjuse became a real family rooster. He always came and checked out what we were up to, looked with his one eye (he was blind in the other) and willingly let himself be lifted up into our arms, at any time. Particularly Lovis and Sjuse became real besties. She rode him around in the stroller and lugged him constantly. (She even tried to give him a ride on the bike, but then he jumped off.)
Idun and Sjuse.
Sjuse, Idun, Lovis and our godchild Ellen.
Lovis carrying Sjuse to the hen house.
One sunny day we saw him cautiously lie down in the flower bed to try to bask. How he hesitantly spread his wings as he'd seen the other chickens do. As an stiff old man who's trying something that wasn't allowed when he was young. Then he lay there in delight.
We sold our other rooster, Pricken, increasing Sjuse's status even further. The ladies in the chicken run started to court him, but poor Sjuse had probably been so bullied that he didn't really know what to make of it when they wiggled their tail feathers in front of him. In any case he rose in rank. Suddenly he wasn't at the bottom any more, not even in the middle, but at the top, along with our arch hen Prippi.
And that, my friends, is no mean feat.
A few days ago he started to look limp, in the manner we'd heard chickens do when they're about to draw their lasts breaths.
Sjuse's posture got progressively worse.
His tail dragged the ground more and more, and so did the wings. Suddenly he could loose balance and tip over. But he rose up again and kept standing and observing his little empire.
Prillan, another chicken who is highly ranked, took him on, she groomed his feathers and kissed him on the beak. As if she saw where things where headed, she wanted to give him some affection in his last days. He just stood still and let himself be taken care of.
Sjuse and Prillan.
Kiss kiss, old man.
And now you probably know where this is going. Yesterday we understood that Sjuse's life really was ending. Lovis cried and cried, hugged him and cried.
Lovis taking a gentle farewell of he beloved rooster.
And this morning when we woke up, Sjuse had died. Now we're hoping for him to be in a place where his wings are strong, his posture proud and his self-esteem good.
Sjuse got a really lovely last time. I believe it was really good that he got to come to a place where there weren't many dominant competitors, where he freely got to wander around the back yard and peck the grass. I believe he was happy here with us and it is with sorrow in our hearts we bury our nice friend, who we knew so briefly, but came to mean so much.
Rest in peace, Sjuse.
Link to original post: http://engulapelsin.blogspot.se/2012/07/nekrolog-till-en-alskad-tupp.html
Many years have gone by since I first read it, but I go back and read it occasionally, and it yet hasn't failed to bring tears to my eyes. As I've become a bit more active on this forum lately, I thought that I might share the story with you. I asked Malin for permission, and she granted it, and I translated it myself. The photos are also from the post and taken by Malin's husband, Caj Fors-Klingenberg.
I don't have any formal training in translating and may not be doing the original justice, but I can't seem to get beyond the third to last paragraph without choking up. Here is my translation:
Obituary for a beloved rooster
You might remember the rooster Sjuse? He who wandered astray. [Link to other blog post.]
Let me tell you his story.
While we went abroad at the start of the year, we got to keep our chicken flock at the place of an acquaintance, who also has chickens. Own, large and mighty chickens, with splendid roosters. When we picked up our chickens, she asked if we wanted a rooster into the bargain, an old one, who always got pecked on and teased by the other roosters. She thought he might get more peace in a smaller chicken run. We thanked and accepted.
The hierarchy can be harsh in a chicken run with several roosters and Sjuse (it's Idun who has come up with the name, where it came from I don't know) was really depressed when he came here. At first he mostly sat and looked around in a corner when the other chickens were awake, he didn't dare to come down. When the rest of the flock had fallen asleep for the night, he cautiously jumped down to eat. He didn't mix with the flock, but kept himself at bay.
This went on for a few weeks. But then, slowly, gradually, he got more comfortable in our chicken run. He increasingly often started to eat with the other chickens and became of the team.
Sjuse to the right.
Besides, Sjuse became a real family rooster. He always came and checked out what we were up to, looked with his one eye (he was blind in the other) and willingly let himself be lifted up into our arms, at any time. Particularly Lovis and Sjuse became real besties. She rode him around in the stroller and lugged him constantly. (She even tried to give him a ride on the bike, but then he jumped off.)
Idun and Sjuse.
Sjuse, Idun, Lovis and our godchild Ellen.
Lovis carrying Sjuse to the hen house.
One sunny day we saw him cautiously lie down in the flower bed to try to bask. How he hesitantly spread his wings as he'd seen the other chickens do. As an stiff old man who's trying something that wasn't allowed when he was young. Then he lay there in delight.
We sold our other rooster, Pricken, increasing Sjuse's status even further. The ladies in the chicken run started to court him, but poor Sjuse had probably been so bullied that he didn't really know what to make of it when they wiggled their tail feathers in front of him. In any case he rose in rank. Suddenly he wasn't at the bottom any more, not even in the middle, but at the top, along with our arch hen Prippi.
And that, my friends, is no mean feat.
A few days ago he started to look limp, in the manner we'd heard chickens do when they're about to draw their lasts breaths.
Sjuse's posture got progressively worse.
His tail dragged the ground more and more, and so did the wings. Suddenly he could loose balance and tip over. But he rose up again and kept standing and observing his little empire.
Prillan, another chicken who is highly ranked, took him on, she groomed his feathers and kissed him on the beak. As if she saw where things where headed, she wanted to give him some affection in his last days. He just stood still and let himself be taken care of.
Sjuse and Prillan.
Kiss kiss, old man.
And now you probably know where this is going. Yesterday we understood that Sjuse's life really was ending. Lovis cried and cried, hugged him and cried.
Lovis taking a gentle farewell of he beloved rooster.
And this morning when we woke up, Sjuse had died. Now we're hoping for him to be in a place where his wings are strong, his posture proud and his self-esteem good.
Sjuse got a really lovely last time. I believe it was really good that he got to come to a place where there weren't many dominant competitors, where he freely got to wander around the back yard and peck the grass. I believe he was happy here with us and it is with sorrow in our hearts we bury our nice friend, who we knew so briefly, but came to mean so much.
Rest in peace, Sjuse.
Link to original post: http://engulapelsin.blogspot.se/2012/07/nekrolog-till-en-alskad-tupp.html
