We Are Deep In the Heart of Texas

Nomadic seasons of farming adventures with nature thrown in to include; a pinch of family, snippets of friends, counting our blessings, paying IT forward, home school, and the spicy things I decide to rant about.







Friday, June 26, 2009

Good-Bye Rocky Psycho Cock

This was their coop:

He was a Buffington, or Kellogg's Rooster

He was quite a hefty bird, well over 15 pounds.



When he was only 5 months, and hadn't found his man voice -- we put him in with 4 Buff & 5 Barred Rock hens. They then almost brained him; and I nursed him back to health. That is when he decided I was the horrible wench who tried to peck him to death. From then on, he tried to flog me several times a day.










This is Rocky under the mesquite tree next to where his coop was, he was over 2 feet tall. His ladies were never far from him. If we tried to mix them in another coop with a different rooster, they always came back to Rocky. They would never allow other hens to come into their harem as well. ROCKY WAS THEIR MAN.











Here they were enjoying some greens in the sunset. Each morning, I was the one who would feed, water and then let out Rocky & harem.

The first time he got a beat down for flogging, I was in the front yard with camera. He sneaked up and tried to kill me for invading his space. While my hubby saw it, and whacked him with a tennis racket and was going to kill him. I couldn't allow it, though I had scratches. Rocky was just doing his job in his mind.

Each day, I took a tennis racket with me inside his yard to do the daily watering and feeding.

One day, he was teased by my son SAENZ and Rocky flogged him. Saenz was so upset but NAWT about getting flogged or scratched up. He knew his dad would kill Rocky. So he begged me not to tell and he made up a story about falling down. (YET, I told my husband because the wounds were obvious.) I had made my husband promise not to hurt Rocky because Saenz had caused the incident.

And years passed, Rocky was left with his hens to be a ROOSTER.

What is so damned funny is, he thought he was sneaky and smart. If you turned your back, he would BE HUFFING AND PUFFING trying to get to your legs for a military style attack. --- TURN AROUND and he would be gazing off into the sky like an innocent. ROFL so funny................

Three weeks ago, an opposum had bit off his back toes which hung down below the wired cage floor. He never fully recovered but would still try to FLOG me several times a day.

Each day for the last three years, my day was full of his manly crows.



















HIS LAST DAY................ On Wednesday, I knew when he did not move around as much -- his end was near. He did not try to flog me once through I watered and fed them. Thursday morning, he did not even get out of the coop so I tended to his needs inside the coop. His hens would take turns hovering over him.

Then late yesterday afternoon, my husband went to check on him and found him death inside his coop. Let me tell you, I was wrenched with grief. One of his hens was so upset, she laid down and died as well.

I love you, Rocky -- may you find a new harem over the Rainbow Bridge. You were one in a million and will be sorely missed here on HOE HEN INN.






















Where I would like to have him buried after building a makeshift coffin, and cement marker. All the chickens love to dust bathe under this mesquite tree.

Salud, my feathered knight in golden fleece.










No comments: