Guard Chicken

Puffer has become my new guard chicken at the front door. She liked hanging out in the sun for a few hours this afternoon, but was not moving far from the door, even though her lameness is no longer evident. Puffer walked around the porch, picking up bits of lettuce, apple, and cookies that I scattered for her. She's looking pretty healthy. Puffer and I have grown accustomed to being roommates; we chat daily when I leave for work in the morning and come home at night. Puffer likes complaining about the cold; her water was frozen every morning and every evening. She doesn't like being alone all day either.

One day this week, Ginna, our neighbor and my step mother, brought the newspaper over to leave on the porch so I could get educated when I got home. Ginna was not expecting Puffer's warm greeting. Ginna gave a startled little chirp and Puffer chirpped back. Puffer thought this was grand entertainment, but Ginna left without so much as saying goodbye. Puffer is still a little miffed about the incident.

Puffer

Puffer is enjoying some respite in a cardboard box in the kitchen. She started a pecking match with the new rooster Joseph. Puffer lost.

Her comb and face area were pecked until bloody and she acts as though her leg is hurt. I brought her inside this evening and will leave her in the kitchen for a few days to facilitate healing in a warmer place without competition from the others.

Joseph is settling in and now well respected by the other chickens. One of the black hens roosts next to him.

Rooster tails

This day was the first opportunity I had to save black feathers from my deceased rooster, Black Pepper. He was found Tuesday morning flailing vigorously in the corner of the coop. I witnessed his last moments. At first I thought he had been shot because it was such a quick death, however, on the next day after work, I examined his body quite carefully and could see no sign of violence to his flesh. After consulting with the family chicken experts, I believe he had a heart attack.

I laid Pepper on my black plastic covered kitchen table and harvested several bags of feathers...shiny black with a blue/green sheen...long tail feathers and pointy feathers from the neck area to use in future expressive art projects. Grandson Logan asked me if Pepper was giving me the feathers and I explained that he was dead. Logan said he will miss him and that Pepper will be in heaven...the faith of a three-year-old.