The Silence is Deafening.

We said goodbye to Mr. Tweets the other night.

Please pardon the blurry photo. It was taken through a window
screen because I was afraid to actually go outside with him.

He turned really, really mean. If we walked by the chicken's yard, he'd rush the fence and try to attack our feet. We couldn't let the hens out, because if he got out he'd race around trying to attack us. He finally escaped a couple of days ago, flew over the fence, and was out all day. I tried to catch him (wearing rubber boots, long sleeves, and gloves) but I couldn't. He kept flying up toward my face, and I wasn't fond of the idea of having a chicken claw at my eyes. Even the dog was afraid to go out - if she did, he chased her around.

He used to be such a sweet rooster. He'd hang out with me while I weeded the garden, cooing and cawing occasionally, crowing if I said, "Who's my pretty rooster?" in the stupidest baby-talk voice you can imagine. He'd happily lay on his back in my arms as I stroked his chest, nearly falling asleep with his head in the crook of my elbow. He'd run up to us when we went outside and wait for the attention he knew we'd give him.

And then, the hens started laying. It started out mild, he'd only attack strangers. And then he went after Cora. It only got worse from there, until it got to the point where he'd attack anything that walked near him.

So I had Andrew do away with him the other night. The girls and I left the house so we didn't have to watch. Chloe was pretty upset for a short while, but she knew it had to be done. Cora did a little dance - she's glad to not be afraid to walk outside anymore, and to be able to play with the hens again.





I'm a little sad. I know I said we weren't getting attached to these chickens, that they're just livestock. But I couldn't help but get attached to the rooster. And I absolutely loved listening to him crow. He had an impressively loud, high-pitched crow. I'm sure the neighbors are relieved. But I really did love it. Happily though, my neighbor still has her rooster, and I can listen to him instead. Aside from that, I'm not too upset. We can let the hens out to wander in the evenings again now, and the girls are enjoying their chickens again. It was a sad choice to make, but the best one.



In other chicken news - Goldi is (miraculously) still alive after her ordeal. She's laying an egg every day now, and though they are a bit bloody still, they seem to be coming out just fine. Between the four hens we're getting a solid two dozen eggs each week, meaning we're effectively drowning in eggs already. It's a good problem to have... I'm pretty sure my neighbors think so, too.