My top Roo, Chief, the meanest S.O.B. in the yard, had been acting weird for about a week, staying inside the barn, keeping himself separate from everyone else when he did go out, hiding, etc. Tuesday night, after work, I changed from my executive-type attire into my grubby clothes to do some gardening and found Chief lying on his side, practically dead already, bloody eyes, gasping for breath. Well, I knew what I had to do, but had a hard time anyway. You'd think it would be a pretty simple thing to do, as Chief routinely got me with his spurs, but, still, he was my critter. I got the machete, took him away from the others to a downed log and chopped his neck. Boy, did I cry! I've never killed anything on purpose before -- I'm not a hunter (I'm not opposed, just was never raised to hunt) and I am just extra sensitive when it comes to my animals. I buried him in my "chicken graveyard", although, to be honest, I have tossed dead hens/duck into the woods. In a way, I'm glad I found the courage to do it -- there's no way I could have left him gasping. Now, at least I know I have it in me to do what's necessary.
It's pretty quiet around the yard without Chief, but I'm glad he's no longer suffering. His sons are now ruling the roost.
Gwen
It's pretty quiet around the yard without Chief, but I'm glad he's no longer suffering. His sons are now ruling the roost.
Gwen