LalaBuckholtz
In the Brooder
R.I.P. Sergeant Pepper, the bantam who would be king.
You were a good rooster, all the ladies survived the hawk attack. Chili and Clove made it to the pen and Bay hid not 4 feet from your eviscerated remains. The hawk flew away when I disturbed his lunch. And then 4 crows finally arrived to chase the hawk from the neighborhood. Too little too late for you, little buddy. But you did a great job, and I'd like to think I gave you a better life than you had before. You had 3 devoted hens, one of whom loved you with all her little might, all the meal worms and corn and peanut butter you ever wanted, and we healed your scaley leg mites and gape worm infection. Just a little birb, but you discharged your masculine duties in keeping the hens from fighting, keeping an eye on the skies, and calming the girls when they were scared.
Who knew city living would be so hazardous as a chicken keeper. This is the 4th chicken I've lost in a year and a half. Now, to be fair, there's not much I could have done for any of them to keep them alive, 1 was lost to old age, 2 to bully induced illness before Sarge came along. But that's the risk in taking in adult birds instead of raising them by hand.
The hens are all hiding in their pen now, cowering and crying. And Sarge is feeding the compost pile he loved so much from far underground.
You were a good rooster, all the ladies survived the hawk attack. Chili and Clove made it to the pen and Bay hid not 4 feet from your eviscerated remains. The hawk flew away when I disturbed his lunch. And then 4 crows finally arrived to chase the hawk from the neighborhood. Too little too late for you, little buddy. But you did a great job, and I'd like to think I gave you a better life than you had before. You had 3 devoted hens, one of whom loved you with all her little might, all the meal worms and corn and peanut butter you ever wanted, and we healed your scaley leg mites and gape worm infection. Just a little birb, but you discharged your masculine duties in keeping the hens from fighting, keeping an eye on the skies, and calming the girls when they were scared.
Who knew city living would be so hazardous as a chicken keeper. This is the 4th chicken I've lost in a year and a half. Now, to be fair, there's not much I could have done for any of them to keep them alive, 1 was lost to old age, 2 to bully induced illness before Sarge came along. But that's the risk in taking in adult birds instead of raising them by hand.
The hens are all hiding in their pen now, cowering and crying. And Sarge is feeding the compost pile he loved so much from far underground.
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