Cocky Bantam

No news is good news, or so they say.  But I’m not sure that’s true with chickens.  We haven’t heard a peep out of them since we’ve been away.  But then, chickens aren’t known for staying in touch.

We’re fairly confident that chicken-sitters Carol and Tucker would alert us if there were any serious coop concerns but still…   it’s that feisty little bantam rooster I worry about.  I hope he isn’t giving Carol any grief.  But I’m not totally confident that he has behaved.  After all, twice he chased me right out of the garden and up onto the porch.  I think if I’d been slower about slamming the door he’d have followed me right into the house.

Nyel didn’t see either incident and he has a tendency to laugh when I talk about it, but he did tell Carol that if the rooster gave her any grief to not hesitate to get rid of him.  Knowing Carol, she wouldn’t think of it, but I do hope she had Tucker step in if it was necessary.  No matter how beautiful (and how little) that rooster is, when his tail is spread and his wings are flapping and he’s flying toward you at knee level, it’s terrifying.  Truly.

T.J. Potter

We’ll know more tonight.  We are on the last leg of our homeward journey, stopping in Portland to have an early supper with Maggie and then… I have a fantasy that we could go down to the old OR&N dock and hop aboard the T.J. Potter.  It would be nice to just float on down the river toward the beach without worrying about traffic or road conditions or any of the rest of those driving concerns.

In reality, though, we’ll probably head home on the Washington side of the Columbia and enjoy the river view from a twenty-first century perspective. Maybe we’ll talk about a stewed chicken dinner… just in case,