This is post is number 32 in the marathon.
Last night two large intruders came on our property. We had never seen these big black dogs before. They killed our young rooster Clyde on the spot and ran off with a black hen.. I will not know until day light if the the hen they took was Mr. Gibson. Poor Clyde. He put up quite a fight right outside the goat pen. Perhaps he saved the baby goats from the villains. I am never happy to lose a hen and it will be sad, no matter which one it was. Still I hope it wasn't Mr. Gibson. Once more it is time to rerun my poem from March 11, 2005.
DEAD CHICKEN EPITAPH
Taken by some natural wrath.
Thus comes this rendering of
A Dead Chicken's Epitaph.
A slight little sex-link hen,
Among her peers the least weight,
Enabled her continued escape
In flight over the pen gate.
Half-eaten, clipped wings grow,
She was determined to explore.
Whole-eaten this time,
To return no more.
Bye, bye black(chicken)bird..........
by granny annie
Feel free to set this rhyme to music with the last verse as repeated chorus.
Annie.
ReplyDeleteI am so sorry to hear this. My thoughts are with you.
I'm sorry about the bird, I'm also convinced you might be a bit off-center.
ReplyDeleteWhat I mean is I haven't read too many dead chicken poems. But it was good, don't get me wrong.
ReplyDeleteI'm glad they didn't get your goat.
sonny -- Thanks. It is nice to know someone feels my pain.
ReplyDeleteCliff -- Off-center??? I'm sure there are lots of dead chicken poems. You could have been nice like Sonny. But oh, no....... Maybe you get my goat:)
Can't you shoot those dogs? Hate it when somehing like happens.
ReplyDeleteOh, let's hope it wasn't Mr. Gibson. I always love hearing about her..
ReplyDeletePlease let us know.
Changes in the wind -- We shoot the ones we can. There are just so many packs of stray dogs around here and these two were completely new. There is no telling how far they had traveled and how far away they are by now. Being a city girl most of my life, I am shocked by the number of stray dogs and cats that there are in the country. Then there are those that the owners won't keep at home no matter how nicely you ask.
ReplyDeleteNancy -- Mr. Gibson was alive and well in the hen house this morning. Hooray! One of my older black hens was gone. That makes it a little easier because she probably didn't have much time left in chicken years. I should have been knocking wood because we have gone a little over a year without losing cats, chickens or guinea fowl and this year we've already lost two cats and three chickens. (Not counting Jack Bauer who simply crossed the road.)
FRightening. Can the county reduce these packs?
ReplyDeleteIt must be hard to try and protect them. Sorry about that, Annie.
ReplyDeleteTabor -- The best way to reduce the packs of stray dogs is to make people stop driving their unwanted animals into the country and turning them loose.
ReplyDeleteJudy -- The strange thing about some of these strays is that they will cross our property looking like they are starving to death and won't touch a chicken. We don't mind the natural predators as much as these dogs that some human caused their violence.
That's every chicken and goat keepers fear. Sorry. I too wish dog owners were more responsible.
ReplyDeleteI'm sorry about Gibson. We too had some problem of intruders in our locality had lost lots of hens and goats. These people hardly keep them in fear of such intruders. Its sad. I feel sad for your black girl.
ReplyDeleteI'm sorry! That must just feel like an armed robbery of sorts. I saw Sting in concert once and he was talking about how he was an animal rights person until he became a farmer, and one night foxes came in and killed all of his chickens, and he saw the hunters' point of view.
ReplyDeleteThat breaks my heart!
ReplyDeleteI had a cat once that would have been the Dogs end (the cat killed a racoon protecting our bird coop when he was 7). I was a good boy and neutered him when we was young, but would have loved to see those genes passed on.....
ReplyDeleteCharlotte -- I have always known that the chickens needed protection but thought goats would be brave because of their horns. They tremble in fear at the predators and run and hide. I often wonder what their horns are for exactly.
ReplyDeleteMonalisa -- Thank you for your concern. As it turns out, it was not Mr. Gibson who was carried off. It was another hen that was older and as much as I hated that, I was glad it wasn't one of my young ones or a good broody hen like Gibson.
Riot Kitty -- It does leave you feeling quite vulnerable.
Lynn -- Some think that is still but it breaks my heart too. Wish I could keep from getting so attached to my critters.
Whitemist -- We were looking at houses and entered one that had a sign "Beware Attack Cat". We met the animal and it was the most frightening house pet we ever encountered. It puffed up and growled and hissed at us and definitely put the fear of God in us. My husband liked this brave cat so much he said he might buy the house if they would throw in the cat.
Those Darn bird dogs! I'm sorry you've had to endure such predator tragedy- Glad it wasn't Mr Gibson, but too bad about Clyde- so brave to fight!
ReplyDeleteI like your Melancholy dead chicken poem. I once made a scupture titled "Dead Chicken" made in a stylized shape of cracks around an egg...
Snaggle Tooth -- My other young rooster Bonnie is spending his time looking for his best pal Clyde. Oh my goodness I would love your sculpture Dead Chicken! Any pictures you can post. You are so clever...cracks around an egg!
ReplyDelete