How many times did I ask the coyotes why they didn't take a rooster instead of a hen?
They finally did. Stewpot failed to return home at the end of the day.
Despite all his meanness, I'm going to miss him. He was one of our first chickens, and he sure was handsome.
With his girls.
Dust bathing.
How he was named, and his antics.
Ohhhhh...poor Stewpot. I am so sorry. He was a handsome fella.
ReplyDeleteBummer, he was a good looking rooster too. Looks like he would've put up a good fight, at least.
ReplyDeleteMaybe he's gone on a walk about.
ReplyDeleteIn a sense, though, he lived up to his name. Now if you'd named him Methuselah or such, he might have had a different fate.
ReplyDeleteThat's a mite sad about Stewpot ... any loss is sad.
ReplyDeleteI loved the post about the naming of birds - hilarious. It's given me an inclination to name a few of ours - the tui could be named the beer bird (we have a beer named tui over here) and the sparrow the sparrar - oh that's right, it already is! The kiwi - stickybeak ... I'll have to give it some thought now.
A moment of silence for Stewpot. He was a handsome thing.
ReplyDeleteThanks everybody. I was hoping he was just out exploring, but he hasn't come back.
ReplyDelete"Big Red" has taken up the slack. He's pretty happy.
Maybe God needed a new alarm clock..
ReplyDeleteSorry to hear it... he ended up in some other creature's "stewpot"?
ReplyDeleteIt is a fine line we walk with these critters... fondness, annoyance or hunger?
Hope the rest of the girls (and Big Red) are doing OK!
Yes, he was quite handsome (and winsome). Sorry.
ReplyDeleteAw, poor Stewpot. Hw was good-lookin' too, not to mention photogenic.
ReplyDeleteLovely pictures.
ReplyDeleteGorgeous rooster, you'll miss his beauty for sure.
Sorry for your loss...I'm sure Stewpot put up quite a fight for his captor! In my past experiences with chickens, a pile of feathers and no body was often a weasel, but no trace at all was a hawk. Hope the rest of the flock will be safe!
ReplyDeleteSure was a looker. :)
ReplyDeleteCan't help but tell of my old rooster named "Chauncey"...he used to attack my older sister, which was of course awesome when I was 10! He was a white leghorn with big spurs, and I loved him like a tough older brother! But some neighborhood dogs got him...and I miss him still...love to sic him on my current neighbors, actually..;)
ReplyDeleteIt always irritates me when a predator gets my rooster before I get around to craving coq au vin au bourgignon, for which you really need a tough old bird. Things are looking up this year, though with a couple of fine cockerels, "Mr. Darcy" and "Mr. Collins" coming up and Branwell, their father, being more of a jerk every day.
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