I wandered out to the chicken coop for the afternoon feeding/egg collection ritual yesterday and was brusquely confronted by the sight of a bird lying in the dirt with closed eyes. Ol' Red had kicked the bucket, shuffled off this mortal coil and joined the bleeding choir invisible. This was an ex-rooster.

I purchased him as a wee chick from the Española Farm & Feed several years ago, and Ol' Red has been a reliable alarm clock throughout those years. He was cool with people, but hell on the back sides of the hens. The girls always looked a little rough by the time winter rolled around, but when the weather got really cold, a new set of feathers would show up just in time and he'd take it easy on them until the weather warmed up and the cycle would begin again.

This winter has been pretty mild, but the past few had taken their toll on Ol' Red's toes, and he lost the last dangling tarsal last year. Every once in awhile I'd find an old claw when cleaning out the coop.

Animals deal with hardship differently than humans. If I'd lost all my toes to frostbite, I believe I'd spend at least a few days lying in bed whining and bemoaning my ruined dance career. But Ol' Red remained stoic and never slowed down. He hopped around as if determined to win a 3 legged race.

You've seen him on this site before in a cameo in a Mule Britches video, but we'll not see him again.

Say goodbye, the rooster is dead; Say goodbye my trusty Rhode Island Red

Ol' Red in happier times. Look at those spurs!