A Bird in the Hand

In February I acquired a rooster. Although I didn't ask for him, and really could have lived without him, he was quite handsome and the hens seemed to generally appreciate his presence. He only had one small issue:

His clock was broken.

The dumb bird sang beautifully, but he sang any time the mood struck: three in the afternoon, two in the morning, it didn't really matter when.

We finally tired of his incessant crowing and found a replacement. His name is Thor. Cock fighting is a popular sport here (NO, we do not condone fighting roosters or gambling on the games), and Thor is a champion fighter. That really means nothing to me. The important thing to me is that in the 2 weeks we've had him, I've heard him crow exactly once.

It's a problem having two roosters, though, especially if both are bred to be fighters. Thor stayed in the pen with Mama Hen and her babies and Old Rooster roamed around the property with the other two hens. All was well until one day when the gate got left open and suddenly both roosters were in the pen.

That was the end of happiness on the chicken farm. The decision was made to catch Old Rooster and deliver him to his new home with our friend Ramon.

Have you ever tried to catch a wild rooster? It wasn't easy, but it certainly was funny!!! I only wish I'd had a video camera!

The boys started by hunting for the rooster. After about 15 minutes, they located him roosting in a tree behind our house. They shooed him out of the tree...and the chase was on. Caleb nearly caught him in the open stretch as the two flew (almost literally) across the front patio, over the garden box and around the pool. Rooster had his eye on another stand of mesquite trees and made it into the underbrush just as Caleb was about to grab him. With the rest of the brothers beating the bushes, they drove Rooster back into the open and across the road...into another stand of mesquite. At this point Mindy, our retired herd dog, caught on to the fact that we were trying to catch something (duh) and decided to get in on the fun.

Mindy dove into the mesquite briars and turned Old Rooster around -- straight toward Doug and I.

At this point, I made a grave error: I put down my camera to try to catch the bird. I should have known, from my years of experience with country life, that I had no chance of catching that terrified rooster. I could have, however, caught two amazing photos. One of Doug as he grasped at Old Red who streaked between his legs and one of Hunter as he dove, without thought of his own safety, on top of the bird. Neither attempt was successful, but both were so hilarious that everyone was shrieking with laughter. I'm sure the neighbors thought we were nuts.

I'm sure they already think we're nuts.

Anyway, the chase ended when Mindy cornered the rooster behind the cactus hedge and Hunter grabbed him.

Mindy was quite proud of herself and everyone else was still hooting with laughter at the craziness which is our family.

After we calmed him down a bit, I deposited Old Rooster into a cardboard box, and we delivered him to Ramon's house.

No more roosters singing at midnight. Yeah!!!