Yep, just like the title says, field and death. This is gruesome, so if you are feint of heart, please stop now, smiling. Yesterday was a most beautiful day. Our home is located between two alfalfa fields, one on the west, one on the east. The eastern field is tall and beautiful, the pretty blue flowers are just starting to show, the butterflies in heaven. My understanding of the alfalfa crop is that the harvest is desired before flowering, the protein content is much higher prior to flowering. My understanding, which is limited. My chickens all free range, and this is a part of their day, to meander into the alfalfa field, getting who knows what, probably bugs, grasshoppers for surely, and greens, yep, greens comin’ out their ears. Had a most lovely visit with a friend in the afternoon and she left to go home. I went to my home and relaxed and had a cool drink, after doing some work in the chicken yards.
It was about this time, I venture about 5:00 PM, where I saw the fellow that does the cutting of the alfalfa come racing up the field going fast, very fast. Guess he had a job to do and that involved getting the crop down. I know that the birds were probably in the first 10 feet of that field, they don’t venture much deeper, just too deep of green, and who knows what lies deep in those fields of green. Too late to hurry the birds out of the field if they were in there. I didn’t even see him coming with his first, probably a 10 foot swath of a cut. The inevitable probably happened. Well it did actually. Confirmed my worst thoughts when I saw him racing past our home, that huge, wide path cut. Daughter came running up the driveway. Mum, I think one of your birds got all cut up. Rats.....she sat down, drinking her cold drink. Now what. Oh brother....so, figured I might as well go and see if there really was a bird in the cut down greens. I asked her what colour she thought it was. Red. Oh brother. Only red birds I have are the buckeyes. Well, let’s go and see. She didn’t want to come and look, cause she knew what we would probably find. Walked down the driveway, couldn’t see anything, yet....then I saw it. I bunch of long feathers, probably wing feathers. Walked a little further. Saw a beak sticking up in the air. Ich, something attached to the beak. The neck and part of the back. Walked a little further, saw a foot sticking up in the air, something attached to that. Ich. Walked a little further, saw another foot in the air, something attached to that. Blah....now what....flies were already on these parts, ich, more ich....Hmmm....perhaps should go and get a bucket. Well, what the fling ding. Daughter had enough. She climbed through the wire fence and started picking up bird parts. Man, this kid (well, a grown woman in her fourtieth year) is tough as nails. She has a little more guts about picking up guts than I do. So I let her. She had the head in one hand, with parts attached, the two feet and legs in the other hand, parts attached, walking along beside me. Me almost puking my guts out. No blood dripping. Wonder what happened to the blood. Well, time to see what it was. An adult, a female, a male. It was a young cockerel, sad, but got a few of them, so at least it wasn’t a hen that was laying eggs. What a dummy. He was the only one. Couldn’t he hear it coming? Was he going to fight this monster coming at him? I am wondering if it was the one that was going to be a bad boy anyways. There was one cockerel that was just a little too brazen for my liking anyways, hoping that it was him. I’ll know today when I have a look at who was missing. He was going to the soup pot anyways, if it was this bad boy, he was not nice, could tell that by this tender age of about 16 weeks old....he was the one that would go and take away the stuff my puppies would be chewing on, like a stick. Go figure. What would a chicken want a stick for anyways. He was the one that would not back down when he saw a dog look at him, he would stare right back and then put on aggressive stance to that young dog. Perhaps he was the one that just didn’t like the thought of a great red animal coming and cutting down the grass he so loved to go in. Pictures in my mind’s eye. So now what. Got this bird in three pieces. Don’t want to give it to our dogs, worried it might incite blood lust. Can’t put it in the garbage. But hey wait, there is a big burn barrel used to burn stuff. Put him in there? Would anyone know? Roast chicken? Hmmmm....take him up the bush and throw to the wild ones? Still stitting here this morning, pondering what to do....in a bag, cold last night, so probably still decent with no stench. Guess I’ll just have to ask Daughter what she thinks about it being in the burn. Could dig a hole, but the ground is very dry and hard, it is clay, could bury it deep in the compost pile, but dogs would probably smell it and dig it up. Blah...got some hard thinking to what to do with this dude. He shoulda seen it coming. Still hoping it was the bad dude, not the sweeter fellows, of which there are a few. Oh life on the farmy farm. Death dealings. Oh yes, do watch out for birds when the grasses come down. Have an awesome day, CynthiaM.
It was about this time, I venture about 5:00 PM, where I saw the fellow that does the cutting of the alfalfa come racing up the field going fast, very fast. Guess he had a job to do and that involved getting the crop down. I know that the birds were probably in the first 10 feet of that field, they don’t venture much deeper, just too deep of green, and who knows what lies deep in those fields of green. Too late to hurry the birds out of the field if they were in there. I didn’t even see him coming with his first, probably a 10 foot swath of a cut. The inevitable probably happened. Well it did actually. Confirmed my worst thoughts when I saw him racing past our home, that huge, wide path cut. Daughter came running up the driveway. Mum, I think one of your birds got all cut up. Rats.....she sat down, drinking her cold drink. Now what. Oh brother....so, figured I might as well go and see if there really was a bird in the cut down greens. I asked her what colour she thought it was. Red. Oh brother. Only red birds I have are the buckeyes. Well, let’s go and see. She didn’t want to come and look, cause she knew what we would probably find. Walked down the driveway, couldn’t see anything, yet....then I saw it. I bunch of long feathers, probably wing feathers. Walked a little further. Saw a beak sticking up in the air. Ich, something attached to the beak. The neck and part of the back. Walked a little further, saw a foot sticking up in the air, something attached to that. Ich. Walked a little further, saw another foot in the air, something attached to that. Blah....now what....flies were already on these parts, ich, more ich....Hmmm....perhaps should go and get a bucket. Well, what the fling ding. Daughter had enough. She climbed through the wire fence and started picking up bird parts. Man, this kid (well, a grown woman in her fourtieth year) is tough as nails. She has a little more guts about picking up guts than I do. So I let her. She had the head in one hand, with parts attached, the two feet and legs in the other hand, parts attached, walking along beside me. Me almost puking my guts out. No blood dripping. Wonder what happened to the blood. Well, time to see what it was. An adult, a female, a male. It was a young cockerel, sad, but got a few of them, so at least it wasn’t a hen that was laying eggs. What a dummy. He was the only one. Couldn’t he hear it coming? Was he going to fight this monster coming at him? I am wondering if it was the one that was going to be a bad boy anyways. There was one cockerel that was just a little too brazen for my liking anyways, hoping that it was him. I’ll know today when I have a look at who was missing. He was going to the soup pot anyways, if it was this bad boy, he was not nice, could tell that by this tender age of about 16 weeks old....he was the one that would go and take away the stuff my puppies would be chewing on, like a stick. Go figure. What would a chicken want a stick for anyways. He was the one that would not back down when he saw a dog look at him, he would stare right back and then put on aggressive stance to that young dog. Perhaps he was the one that just didn’t like the thought of a great red animal coming and cutting down the grass he so loved to go in. Pictures in my mind’s eye. So now what. Got this bird in three pieces. Don’t want to give it to our dogs, worried it might incite blood lust. Can’t put it in the garbage. But hey wait, there is a big burn barrel used to burn stuff. Put him in there? Would anyone know? Roast chicken? Hmmmm....take him up the bush and throw to the wild ones? Still stitting here this morning, pondering what to do....in a bag, cold last night, so probably still decent with no stench. Guess I’ll just have to ask Daughter what she thinks about it being in the burn. Could dig a hole, but the ground is very dry and hard, it is clay, could bury it deep in the compost pile, but dogs would probably smell it and dig it up. Blah...got some hard thinking to what to do with this dude. He shoulda seen it coming. Still hoping it was the bad dude, not the sweeter fellows, of which there are a few. Oh life on the farmy farm. Death dealings. Oh yes, do watch out for birds when the grasses come down. Have an awesome day, CynthiaM.
. The single comb dude is horrible looking. He has awful feathers and a ratty tail, something wicked this way came and made a mess of a bunch of genes I think, eeks. Oh well, he does seem somewhat taller than the litter buddies, his breast is pretty wide so will certainly make a lovely meal. Cooked two buckeyes for dinner last night in my slow cooker for our company. Oh ya. What a tasty and lovely meal with all winter time they provided, tender as the days are now becoming short. Right. This was about the bird all slashed up. I checked the field again, as I was walking back from the chickens yesterday morning. One of our pups was chewing on something. Went over and no clue what part it was, but it was hideous. Kind of round and about the size of a baseball, some innard I guess. I picked it up and bagged it and got the rest of the feathers. Ich. Ya, burned it up good. Have a wonderful day, CynthiaM.