A hawk killed my bantam rooster Beyoncé yesterday. He wasn’t there when I went outside to walk the flock home at dusk, and I knew. Sometimes you know.
I found him in the garden, with his neck broken and a little bit of damage to his neck. I think a hawk fell on him from above and killed him instantly. He was too big for the bad bird to carry away, but something disturbed it before it could eat more than a bite.
Yesterday was overcast and quite windy, with a storm system moving in. Birds depend really heavily on other birds to spot predators, and on windy days the chickens can’t hear the alarm calls from the robins, etc. Bey was the outcast and he would definitely be the easiest to target. I can’t think of what else would have disturbed the hawk other than one of my raven friends, so I’m grateful to them.
I buried him in a little grassy strip near his coop, with the very last branch of small but ripe red raspberries. He has a valerian planted on top, and of course, the Giant Metal Chicken Beyoncé watching over him now.
I cried and cried. He was the very last of the first flock we raised, and he had a lot of PTSD from all the near misses he scraped through in his three years. He tried so hard to be a good head rooster — whenever That One Hen, there’s always one, would lead the flock out of the garden and down the road for an escape, he would come stand at the front door and crow nonstop until I came to herd them back. Once he got sick and the infection got into his leg joint, but I captured him and treated him with antibiotics for a week. (He never forgave me, lol.)
He was a mean little terrorist, too. He would stalk the other humans, especially my kid. He ambushed me a few times, but I’ve got timing and I’d just boot him with my toe as he flew in to attack me and that would settle it for six more months. He only weighed like three pounds and I simply couldn’t ever take him seriously as a threat. I’m the only person (or animal!) here who’ll miss him, but god I loved the little asshole.
Here’s the story of the giant metal chicken named Beyoncé, if you’re unfamiliar. I am not the Blogess who wrote this! I’m merely a person who saw a giant metal chicken for sale at the feed store in 2017 and had to have my very own Beyoncé. And when I got an unsexed bantam chick, I realized Beyoncé would work either way!
https://thebloggess.com/2011/06/21/and-thats-why-you-should-learn-to-pick-your-battles/
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