I wrote about “Ferdinand the Bull”–the rooster–the other day. He was getting beaten up in the chicken house and yard every day by the other roosters. He’d started hiding in a corner. Ferdinand was too sweet to fight. We let him out of the chicken house to roam the barnyard freely where he could live in peace and pick daisies.
Unfortunately for Ferdinand–or Chester or Herman or George, whatever we’re calling him on any given day–he’s too sweet to handle the ducks, either, and they were eating his food every time we tried to feed him.
Now our seemingly pet rooster is coming up every afternoon to eat in the cellar bar.
He eats several little bowlfuls until he’s had his fill.
Check out his feathers. He was such a pretty rooster, and will be again when his feathers grow back out.
The other roosters were pretty rough on him.
But he’s already doing a lot better, and he especially enjoys strolling back to the barnyard and telling the other mean roosters about his special dining accommodations. The ducks follow him up to the cellar and quack outside the door. That’s what they get for not sharing well with others!
The rooster comes up every day out of the barnyard around 3 or 4, waiting for Rodney’s truck to come up the driveway, then he runs after him to the cellar. I pretty much think he’d like to just live in the cellar–it’s nice and toasty in there with the gas heater–but he’s booted out when he stops eating.
Eventually he may figure that out and just never stop eating. Or he’ll start asking for beer to extend his stay–it IS the bar!
