Rooster tale and a brag...

 

This is Stan the Man. He is a young Australorp rooster. Last night when I went out to do evening chores, I expected all the chickens to have put themselves in their coops. But there was Stan, pacing anxiously around the composter. The composter is a tall structure made from pallets by my son-in-love. I peered inside, and one of my diminutive bantam Cochin hens was there. She had hopped up on the door of the composter, then in. She was having a lovely time scratching amid the rotting vegetables but appeared trapped inside. Stan alerted me. I let her free, and she headed to her little coop. Stan looked relieved and went to his own coop. A good rooster, he saw a problem, monitored, alerted, then went to his well-deserved rest. 

Today a nor'easter storm was predicted. I gambled and left the doors to the chicken coops open. I was glad because the storm that was said to begin around 11:00 AM held off until 2:00 PM. This meant the birds had the entire morning to roam, explore, and enjoy their day. At 3:00 PM, I went out to take care of all the animals. I fed the cats. I gathered an armful of hay for the goats. Then I noticed Stan and his favorite hen, Winona, hunkered under the picnic table and confused by the falling snow.  I fed and watered the goats and then tried to herd the wayward chickens to their coop. They were having none of it. The snow was coming down sideways. My eyeglasses were coated. My hair dripping. Those two chickens refused to venture out from under the table. Finally, after a variety of efforts, I got my net. It was easy to catch Winona. I carried her, in the net, to the coop. She seemed delighted to be reunited with the flock, in easy reach of food and water. I headed back to try to retrieve Stan. He is huge and fast, so I wasn't sure how this would play out.  As I turned the corner, net in hand, I heard some squawking. The rooster was no longer under the picnic table. Bravo had managed to flush him out, then had chased him to a place where the deck steps meet a bit of fence, and there he had the bird cornered.  His tail happily waving, he skillfully pinned the rooster into this corner with his snout. The rooster was completely unharmed but held fast, unable to escape. Bravo kept him pressed to the fence until I arrived and gathered Stan up. Pleased with himself, my trusty farm dog set off ahead of me in the pelting snow, escorting the bewildered rooster and me back to the safety of the coop.  Good dog! 

Roosters and dogs. I am so lucky to be surrounded by both.