Fritz's new kingdom

So sorry, people! I didn't mean to be mysterious about Fritzy's sudden exile from our little farm. Was it really that much of a cliff-hanger?

A rooster can only have so many chances, you know. And, well, he had more than he deserved.

That full-body aggressive maneuver against my leg the other day was the last straw. Well, not technically. Three shiny new straw bales arrived in my barn today, but you know what I mean.


That's an eight second shot, by the way, so just imagine the kind of light I was dealing with.

All I really know, is that I am rid of my rooster headache.

I had even gone so far as to consider trading my mother for a cat she has been threatening to get rid of for years. He's a very bad cat.

Darn lucky for Fritz, it turned out that a neighbor (in as much as anyone within ten miles of us is a neighbor) wanted him. Not in a pity poor Fritz kind of way either. The kids came with to pick him up, and they were excited. In fact, their Dad said he would likely whack his Leghorn rooster before Fritz, if it came to that (which made me smile). Barred Rock is a great breed. Leghorn, not so much, unless you like high-strung chickens with brains made of fruitcake who aren't amazingly cold-hardy but do lay lots of boring white eggs.

So it was that as the sun set, King Fritz growled as he rode off in a dog kennel, loaded up in the back of a truck. Transportation fitting of his royalty, don't you think?

Curious how things are going at the new place palace?

Here is how it went, as far as I understand the story.

It was evening when he arrived, and Fritz roosted up in the rafters of his new coop. He was on one side, by himself. The Leghorn rooster and all nine hens were squashed together on the other side, as far away from the intruder as they could be. The next morning Fritz and two hens were on the ground, and he was bossing them around, and crowing. Then, apparently there was some fighting between the two roos. Last I heard, the Leghorn spends his time sitting in the corner, and Fritz marches around doing his thing, and acting like he owns the place.

So there you have it. The dude basically walked into his new kingdom and set up his throne.

Looks like it turned out well for everyone, except maybe the Leghorn. That, and my mother, who is still stuck with her cat.

I will be in trouble if I don't announce that things turned out especially well for my husband on Monday. He has been busy leaving wheel tracks like this,


all over the place, as well as odd snow formations.


We have been waiting and waiting, and it finally arrived.