Live and Let [the rooster] Die
We’ve been on the farm for three years now and have learned many important lessons:
One: Don’t gives names to farm animals you don’t intend to keep.
Two: The bigger the space for animals to live in, the more mess you have to clean up.
And Three: Relax – it’s only poop.
We have also learned that some animals are awesome. For instance, Professor Moriarty, our cappuccino-colored goat is a pretty cool guy, would probably be the life of the party if we let him have parties. Just look at this guy:
(I fall for that debonair side-smile every. single. time.)
We have some characters on the farm, some lookers, some drama queens. But never have we ever hosted such an asshole animal as Alex the Rooster.
Alex was a “surprise chicken” from the hatchery in which we ordered twenty meat chickens. They surprised us with this Polish rooster who was astonishingly cute at first, as all chicks are.
Immediately, Grady (our son) falls in love with him. At the time, Grady was reading a fantasy series he was absolutely obsessed with (The Unwanteds by Lisa McMann), and so he took it upon himself to name this chick “Alex” after the main character.
“Don’t name farm animals you don’t intend to keep,” everyone says. Chris and I give this very advice to Grady, actually, but listening to us is apparently like listening to drunk people when you’re sober. It’s annoying and you’d rather not.
So Grady ignores us, naturally, because Chris and I are inherently stupid, I guess. (I think we’re pretty fun, but whatever.)
Anyway, Alex the Rooster grows up with the meat chickens, and when the meat chickens are sent to the butcher, Alex the Rooster is left alone in an enormous coop. Chris and I now admit this may have f*cked up Alex a little bit, but he was a rooster, after all, and we weren’t prepared for all of the wild, unprotected sex Alex was bound to have if introduced to the lady chickens.
And Alex is growing up to be quite a looker. Not as much of a partier as Professor Moriarty, but we can’t all have looks AND personality.
And Alex has some personality. At first, when he starts charging at us when we feed him, it’s like, “Awww he’s running up to give us love. How precious!”
But Alex is not precious.
In the spring we move him to the other chicken coop and hang out to see if the old hens are going to peck him to death. We have to transport him in a carrier because he’s a rooster, and roosters are generally aggressive.
He puts up a fight in the new pen, and the ol’ bitches from the ‘hood give it right back to him, but within a couple weeks, they come to a mutual understanding. Alex can hump them in the coop with the whole farm watching if he protects them. That’s his job, after all.
In the evening, when we do our chores (caring for the goats that share the pen with the chickens), Alex flies at us, claws outstretched.
He spazzes, aggressively attacking our legs so much that we have to protect ourselves with sticks, shovels, and rakes like a mob of angry villagers coming for the monster. We hold our torches high as we try to reclaim our ground.
Alex seemingly concedes, and goes into the coop for the night.
In the morning, he rushes us again. He attacks our legs.
He does this for two months.
Gone are the days of Alex cutely rushing to give us love.
Turns out Alex is a total prick.
By now, Grady sees what’s going to happen. He knows the look in Dad’s eye – the look that says, “This aggression will not stand, man.”
Grady pleads for Alex’s life. “We have a farm to keep the animals alive, not kill them!” he reasons. We listen to Grady’s arguments, but we also give Alex the Prick an ultimatum: get your shit together by the end of May or you’re stew meat.
Grady and his fifth grade friends threaten to sue Chris and me if we “wrongfully murder” the rooster. Seeing as I work in a law office and am, in this respect, Smarter Than A Fifth Grader, I advise Grady and his friends to get a lawyer. Also, at this point, I offer to give the rooster to any of his friends who wants it. (None of them want Alex, though, because *see above* [HE’S AN ASSHOLE].)
We also try to give him away on Craigslist. Despite his stunning good looks, no one wants an “aggressive rooster” who “attacks even when you’re trying to feed him.” Go figure.
For many long weeks, we suffer Alex’s physical abuse until one day, Perry, our six-year-old daughter tries to get her chores done, which is to collect the eggs in her little basket. Alex attacks her, despite her trying to beat him off with a shovel, and draws blood on her legs.
Grady concedes, albeit resentfully.
Alex the Rooster meets his maker on May 23, 2021. Out of respect for animals, even shitty ones, we commemorate their passing with music. We blast “Live and Let Die” over the farm. (And “Helter Skelter” because of course.)
There are life lessons to learn here, as usual:
- Opt out of any “surprise chickens” from the hatchery.
- No matter how much you want to love someone, they might just turn out to be an asshole and there’s nothing you can do about it.
- And when assholes pick on your little sister, your dad will shoot them.
-6 Comments-
LOL’d. Fuckin’ roosters. They’ll get ya every time.
We have two assholes here, on the road to meet their maker too. A couple weeks ago the FedEx truck pulled in and Bob saw the guy head to the garage with a package. Moments later the man runs to his truck with the barred rock rooster in hot pursuit. We could hear the FedEx guys laughing after the narrow escape. F!#king 🐓
Always fun to read your writing… and hear about the fun on the farm!
Loved your story! Growing up in the “country “ I’ve have had experiences with the likes of the Alex’s of animal world! Please keep writing, can’t wait for the next adventure.
Good stuff! Have you put these characters in a book yet?
Love your writing .More please