I found Frederick the Great dead last evening, his glorious golden and blue-black feathers still glistening in the last rays of the sun. He really was a great rooster, protective and proud of his harem, always a gentleman to me, and truly beautiful. His spurs had grown to an impressive four inches, causing him to have to step over each one as he walked, and they were needle sharp. Roosters never seem to live as long as hens, probably because they expend so much energy, and Frederick had a large flock to service. I've had good roosters and some bad ones, but Frederick was The Great.
The owner of the little Nigerian bummer goat came for more milk, and said he is thriving and becoming a handful at just a week old. She brought her own Kids, a girl and two boys, all very young. One more boy and she could be me at that age...two Kids following like ducklings and one in arms. While we did live in the country, how I wish we could have been on a farm as the Kids were growing up.
Having dawdled away the morning, only doing the laundry, I went out to get some mowing done in the afternoon, discovering that one tire on the tractor was flat and another was completely off the rim. Oh goody. Putting this temporarily out of mind (in my best Scarlet O'Hara, "Tomorrow is another day"), but still feeling I hadn't earned my keep for the day, I went out again a little later to weed in the lavender bed in the front yard. Five or six young tom turkeys were already there, enjoying the shade of the oak and chasing bugs in the "grass." Anyone who has ever hunted turkeys will tell you they are very elusive birds...if you catch sight at all, it's now you see 'em, now you don't. They just disappear in the blink of an eye, and that's what I expected yesterday. To my surprise, they moved a few feet away and then we companionably spent an hour or so together, me creating a mountain of weeds and they doing whatever it is turkeys do. There is something so special when a wild thing trusts. They have such finely honed instincts for danger, it makes me feel I can't be all bad if a wild thing is willing to come close.
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Yay for the Nigerian bummer, congrats on being worthy of "the-trust-of-the-wild-thing," (must be a book or movie title in there somewhere) and Frederick the Great...RIP!!
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