I did the unthinkable.
I sold roosters.
Actually, I guess for me - the unthinkable would have been to cook them.
Last night, under the cloak of darkness, we abducted the birds and put them into some ramshackle cages that Glenco built.
I shall forever be haunted by the blood curdling scream one of them let out as I snatched it.
25 years ago, I worked in Chicago, wore high heels and nylons and painted my fingernails.
Today - I abduct poultry in the night.
This morning I noticed that one of the buggers had gotten out of the cage.
They were ramshackly after all.
With the help of a fishing net and a neighbor - I got him back in the cage.
Into the Heep we all went.
There was quite an assortment at the auction today - and it's a good thing I didn't have cash in hand - or I may have brought home Buddy a few more sister wives (hens).
And then there was a stunning bantam rooster.
I felt rather proud of my birds - they looked healthy and bright eyed in comparison to many a fowl at the show.
|isn't the duck head sticking out of the cardboard box a riot?|
The excitement was building as the auctioneer got closer and closer to us -
I saw the Chinese man that was wearing swimming trunks, rubber boots and a t-shirt.
I didn't photograph him - seemed wrong to -
but here's his truck.
See that lift gate?
He was THROWING in birds there.
My heart sank, I wanted to take my birds and run.
I wanted to say 'YOU can't buy my birds'.
I thought I had just done a terrible awful by bringing my birds there.
Traumatization was setting in.
I almost hurled.
I've seen this before at the poultry auctions, and maybe I'm just a light-weight city girl - maybe just cause I like to put diapers on my chickens and have them in the house - name them, kiss them, wash and blow dry them, and make up life stories for them - maybe it's just me - but some people just simply manhandle the birds there.
Tears me up.
Luckily - a nice couple bought one of my Jersey Giants.
I asked them right away what their intentions were with my bird.
They were a bit surprised.
They assured me they had a harem of hens at home awaiting his free-ranging arrival.
I kissed him on the head (the rooster that is) and thanked them for their purchase.
The second black giant was up - an outspoken man with a long white beard bought him, and again - I asked him - 'what are your intentions?'
"I have 20 hens that need sex".
Well - ok, then.
Another kiss on the comb goodbye.
The last two were sold to a young man that spoke broken English.
He handled the birds so gently, that I felt that he either didn't want to bruise his dinner - or in fact he was going to be kind to my birds.
He smiled nicely as he handed me back the ramshackle cages.
Upon arriving home $34 richer, I noticed how incredibly quiet the yard was.
I didn't much like it.
Buddy's still here.
I only have 11 hens - so Buddy's in his sister wife heaven.
I could have kept all five roosters if I would have gotten about 4 more dozen hens - which I was willing to do...
But certain people around here that shall remain nameless - you know - the ones that don't cotton to goats and milk cows - or me doing the Demolition Derby at the fair...
'They' ixnayed my four dozen hens.
In the famous words of my mother...
"they law, I can't have anything"