or a lesson on where food comes from.
{I forgot to get a picture of him when he still had feathers. Just so you know, he was beautiful. He had this magnificent tail with long blue/green iridescent feathers, and the tips of his wings matched. And he was just beginning to grow a decent comb.}
Yesterday Mr. Rooster started crowing. We kind of feel like we are pushing the limits of city living (even if it isn't a very big town) by having our sweet little chickens roaming around our yard. But, we can't ask our neighbors to put up with a natural alarm clock.
Britton was so excited. She counted how many times he crowed. At about 7:30 yesterday morning she ran into our room and told us that the rooster was crowing and he had crowed three times!
Then I got up, and she continued to count how many times he crowed until she got to 11. Then I opened up the back door and fed him, because he had led his ladies up to the back porch to announce that it was past time for his breakfast. Sometimes they knock on the door if they think we aren't feeding them enough, too. I think our chickens might be a little too familiar with us.
Anyway, we decided that Mr. Rooster (formerly 'Flower' until we noticed that he wasn't the lady-like sort) had to go. So Jim came over and held his wings, I slung some twine around his head and pulled gently and James chopped off his head.
We're all processing losing a pet. Where our food comes from. And a pretty interesting anatomy lesson. Everybody thought his insides were cool. We checked out his heart and lungs and crop and intestines. And we said goodbye. And tomorrow he is going to be in our chicken tetrazzini.
Britton even joked about it. I was looking for my roasting pan, and she said "You're looking for your ROOSTING pan?" Oh boy, did she crack herself up. That was the best part.
Britton even joked about it. I was looking for my roasting pan, and she said "You're looking for your ROOSTING pan?" Oh boy, did she crack herself up. That was the best part.
But I think I might pass. I prefer not to know our food. But maybe I'll be a good farmwife someday. When we live out in the country and we can let our roosters crow.
RIP Mr. Rooster. You were a good fellow, if a bit hen pecked. (They were so bossy, I don't think he ever had his way with them.)
2 comments:
Oh, Britton, you're definitely a Tunnell making puns like that!
Ah, nature. It's good for kids to learn where there food comes from early in life. It's WAY less traumatic that way. :)
man, I missed your blog posts. You're such a good writer. It sounds like the way you took care of your rooster was much more gentle than the way Chet did it last time. He researched the most gentle way, but it just didn't work out. We have to replace our old chicken, Rose. Do you think you could give me more info about how you did it, and how it went (over facebook or something?) We've had Rose for a year now, and don't want it to be more stressful for her than it needs to be.
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