The Chicken Chase

Once upon a time we had a rooster. He joined our flock this summer. A polish rooster with a pretty crest of floppy feathers on his funny head. We enjoyed listening to him crow and watching him herd the hens around..... that is until today.

This morning while out and about in the backyard, dear Percy decided that Sabin might be an enemy to contend with. Well, I had noticed a bit of something like guarding and so I was watching closely from the back window. All at once, I saw Percy take stance (now you'll just have to try to imagine this) and I headed barefoot and yes, pregnant, for the back door. In less than a moment Percy was chasing Sabin who was running for the house screaming his little head off. At the same I, with snow shovel in hand, took chase toward that dang rooster. Yes, me and my big-fat-nine-month-pregnant-self took off at full sprint after that black bird. He turned tail immediately; my adrenaline was pumping. Across the yard, and up over our little bank we ran, I popped him in the backside with my shovel. He took a good hop, but I was too angry to be finished. Turning at the fence he headed back down the bank and around the tree with this fat mama and the snow shovel right behind. I popped him again, disappointed that he still kept going. Of course, he had his chicks to protect, but I had mine. We made one more lap around the side of the chicken house, mama scoring a final whack before I ran out of steam enough to stop running.

Minutes later, I had him locked in the chicken run and posted on craigslist, free to the first one who could come get him. Within an hour he was on his way to his new home.

Moral of the story: Don't mess with this mama's chicks. : )

Peacefully BuZzInG,

Misty

Unfortunately (or fortunately depending on perspective) there were no pictures taken of this rather exciting event.