It was a very sad day here at Beth's Kydz Sudz yesterday. The kind of day small hobby farmers hope they don't see too many of. We lost our rooster, affectionately known as "Ozzie", to a hawk. This is the first time we have lost any of our flock in this way. David was home and heard a commotion in the coop and quickly went to see what was going on. Unfortunately, a hawk moves much quicker than we do, and it was too late. I am convinced that what David actually heard was Oz sounding the alert and warning his "harem" of the hawk flying overhead. I've read that an alert rooster (or hen) will sound an alert when a shadow from a soaring hawk passes over them. When David got there, all of the "girls" were in the coop safe and sound. He disrupted the hawk's mission, but sadly, it was too late to rescue Oz. I cannot imagine, or better yet, I will not let myself imagine, what Oz must have gone through, but I know he was bravely and wholeheartedly protecting the flock. Ozzie was our first rooster. He and his partner (Harriet, of course) were part of our original flock. He and Harriet were a couple years old when they were given to us. They went together like peas and carrots. The unbearable heat was just too much for Harriet this year, and we lost her on one of the hottest days this summer. (That was a rough day too.) Sometimes I wonder if I am cut out for this hobby farm lifestyle. Thankfully we have more peaks than valleys, but it sure ties my heart in knots when something like this happens. It is something I will never get used to, or be able to brush aside as if nothing happened. I understand that hawks are at the top of the food chain and it's all part of the cirlce of life. I get that. I would just prefer that my chickens not be on their menu. I read a lot of information in the past 24 hours about keeping hawks away from your flock and we have begun to put some measures in place that will hopefully prevent this from happening again. A few weeks ago, a friend gave us four new hens. Or should I say THREE hens and a rooster. She said she wasn't sure if that fourth one was a rooster or hen. Possibly, but she did mention a few weeks ago that with Ozzie getting on in age, we should eventually get another rooster. Oh the irony of it all! Just last week, we were outside doing chores and heard the most pitiful attempt at a cock-a-doodle-doo! The young rooster was definitely feeling his oats! I wonder if he knew just how pitiful he sounded? A few seconds later, Oz greeted the day as well. It was very proud. It was perfect. Pristine and without flaw. It was as if to tell this new young kid on the block "this is how it is done; listen and learn." I smiled to myself and chuckled a bit. There was a lonesome silence today as we went about our morning chores. I missed Ozzie's greeting very much. He helped me realize the simple and peaceful pleasure found in something as unpretentious as a rooster crowing in the early morning hours. There were only 2 eggs tonight - perhaps the girls miss him as well. He was their protector. This new rooster (yet to be named - I need to get to know his personality first) has some big shoes to fill! In the mean time, we will fondly remember Ozzie as we look to the future and learn and grow from the experience.
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