Another Cock Story
When the cockerels had grown up a bit more they decided to sort out who was in charge. As I had four of them and only eight hens there was a fair bit of fighting going on.

Fortunately a chicken loving friend of mine took one off my hands, called him Rocky and he began a new happy life with six hens of his own. Sadly Rocky’s days were numbered and he and his girls were visited by the local Monsieur Reynard – Rocky did at least die protecting them.
A few days later my friend had entirely fox-proofed the chicken enclosure and took delivery of a new set of hens and I gladly gave her another cock, duly named Rocky 2… He’s still going strong a few years on.


So I was left with Hector (his house) and Samson (he took a liking to one particular little hen – his sister actually – so they became Samson and Delilah).


Hector got his name because he eventually won the battle for supremacy which was a long hard fight, staged on a very wet Easter Monday some three years ago.

Picture the scene…it has rained continuously for a week. With it being late March the grass has not had a chance to grow a great deal and chickens will scratch hell out of it looking for worms, seeds and small bits of grit to eat too (no teeth, the grit does the job instead).

So my garden has taken on the appearance of the Somme circa 1916.


Easter Monday I get up around six am, go out as usual and open up the chooks and the geese.

The two cockerels (as yet unnamed) fly out and begin their morning routine of ‘feathering’ each hen but Hector (as he was to become) decides to take a turn with Delilah (as she was to become). Samson was livid – how do I know? Chickens when angry, aside from attacking will also get very reddened combs – the flappy bits on top of their heads (which my kids insisted on calling hairbrushes). Samson then flies at Hector and an all out fight begins…

I leave them to it – they needed to sort out their differences and these little spats were usually over within a few minutes. I go back indoors and sort out breakfast.

About an hour later the kids and I go out to check on the chickens and to collect any eggs – it’s still raining and the hens have taken shelter back in their house.

Hector and Samson are now virtually unrecognisable – plastered in mud, feathers wet and stringy, blood splattered all over them both.

One son exclaims, “Mummy can we charge people to come and watch them fight? It’s just like boxing!” I quickly explain that it’s illegal…so the other son then points out that I’m doing nothing to stop them fighting…


So I decide I’d better be true to my word – that we should be kind to our animals and keep them safe from harm. I climb into the enclosure (without falling over as I had done on New Year’s Eve…but then attempting to put chickens to bed in high heels really isn’t a good idea, not when drunk anyway).
The birds are running around me squawking and still attacking one another. The best way to stop a cockerel from attacking you, without harming them of course, is to stamp your foot, make loud noises and generally behave like a big cock.
I do this, Samson obviously thinks I’m after his girlfriend Delilah too, so he comes as me. I shoo him away (erm, this involves the very technical movement of placing your boot under the bird and lifting them into the air at speed – it is *not* kicking).

He comes back for more.

Hector sides with me and tries to tackle Samson again. Samson then flies at me and I’m ashamed to say I lost my temper momentarily with him….

I made a grab for his tail feathers, lifted him into the air and he went around and around twirling faster and faster until his feathers were a taught rope of wet muddiness…then with alarming speed he turned back in the other direction. At this point I could see he was furious so I did what any sane adult would do in these circumstances….I flung him over the fence.


He spent the rest of Easter Monday running around outside the safety of the chicken enclosure until he had calmed down and dried out sufficiently to be able to fly back over the fence himself.


Hector had by now had his way repeatedly with Delilah.
( chickenlady b3ta's very own Elizabeth Taylor, Fri 7 Dec 2007, 19:34, 1 reply)

lol
good story and educational too! (found out where the name comes from.
(meh! bored since, Fri 7 Dec 2007, 22:47, closed)