Games of chance, Wyoming style

What have all these people gathered for? What amazing event do they expect to witness? 

Why, a chicken drop! 

What is a chicken drop, you ask?

Giggles could be heard from old men and young girls, but never did the tension cease.

They watched with focus and care, hoping it would be on their number she would release.

 

Which number did she choose?

She didn't! Why that old hen, she just looked out at the fools 

with a look that said, Please! Take me back to my nest!

If only there were a picture

It is a good thing the crazy white cat (CWC) keeps up her end of the bargain, because living with her is always an adventure. There was the morning I woke to find her playing with something on the floor. Eventually, between stumbles to the coffee maker, I realized the sound and heft were not like those of her official, sanctioned toys. I looked down and yes, it was a mouse head. Nothing left but the head. I don't think I need to describe what happened next. Suffice it to say Jack did not wake naturally. 

Most of the CWC stories center around her talent for opening the sliding glass door whenever she has tired of mingling with the masses. She simply hooks a claw into the wood frame and says 'Open Sesameow.'

During calving season, Jack often gets up in the middle of the night to check the heifers. In between he naps in the recliner. One night last week he woke up to find CWC and her brothers and sisters (who live in the barn) cavorting about the kitchen. She was having a sleepover!

When inclined, she is a better guard dog than the actual canines in our house. When we get home, she
comes running and is there to greet us on the stairs, often making it long before the dogs do (if they make the effort at all). The other day Jack got home, opened the door and there she was, curled up on the stairs. There was one notable exception, however. It was not a Corgi, nor a Lab beside her. Instead, a fluffy Sussex hen looked up, stretched and slowly walked out the door behind my astonished husband. A chicken! IN the house!

Green Acres is the life for me?

Nature taking its course

First, let me say if I could have stopped this from happening I would have. I tried running them off. I tried separating them. I tried scaring them. Nothing distracted their focus on each other. After several minutes I gave up and went for the camera.

I hope this isn't too distasteful for anyone, but it so clearly fits the mission of this blog (former PETA member hosts cockfight??) I had to share.

The backstory is that Charlie (left) is older. Charlie became the second rooster on our place, submissive to Rocky, our old comb-less, one-eyed Plymouth Barred Rock rooster. Rocky was the best. He warned the hens of danger, kept them together and never bothered us. Charlie kept his place and so we kept him. He had a brother who harassed the hens and therefore went to live elsewhere.

Refuge under the horse trailer (where they can't jump up).

The other rooster is part of a unique hatch of three: two hens and a rooster. They have stayed together ever since they were chicks. Almost all of the time they roost in the barn instead of the chicken house. Separate but equal?

Last week, we found Rocky's body near the barn. We don't know what happened, but he was old. I like to think that was it. Please don't ruin my illusions. I like them. Besides, how much more reality can I take than a cockfight in my driveway? Anyway, apparently this is where it gets very Lion King, chicken style.

There was a lot of this.

And a lot of this.

Probably for the benefit of these chicks who watched the whole thing from behind the fence. Like ultimate cage fighting in reverse.

At any rate, it appears Charlie did not appreciate Samuel moving in on his territory and decided to express his feelings on the matter.

At first I blamed Charlie since he seemed to be the aggressor, but when I ran him off, the younger rooster went after him. Without any fences, they were easily able to avoid me and focus on each other.

Minutes went by. Many minutes. This was no flash in the pan, let's get it out of our system and be done with it. This was menace with meaning.

Blind dog watches cockfight. He was totally confused, but pretty sure they weren't supposed to be doing that.

Now here is where it got amazing. I was sure they were just going to keep going at each other until one couldn't fight anymore. Ugly. Then from around the trailer comes Skip. He bounds into the middle and does I 'm not sure what. Whatever it was, they immediately go their separate ways. End of story. I have a picture, but I still don't know what happened. Animals are phenomenal.

The results.

Crowing about his "victory" to the heifers.

 

The prize? 

As soon as it was over she came running over to him. 

Florence Nightingale?  

Pink lady to his T-Bird? 

Perhaps I am projecting too much on to this?

Why is he awake already?

IMG_1779
Originally uploaded by coralinad

It is 4:45 am. Completely dark. Yet I can hear him out there crowing his head off. And instead of waking me up, it is telling me to scoot back to bed for at least a little bit more shut eye before work.