It's a sad tale, really, the tale of Spartacus our lead rooster's death. If you've been following our laying hen saga, you'll remember that we've had some trouble in the past with predators. One on the first deterrents we tried was adding two roosters, Rocky & Bullwinkle,  to the flock. They were about as successful as you'd imagine based on their names. Soon after we figured out that one of the original hens was a him - this rooster we named Spartacus. You can see from the photo that he was a magnificent specimen. He was a large barred-rock rooster, and his flock tending skills were as hot as his looks. 

He was kind to Rocky and Bullwinkle, never picking fights, and he watched over his hens diligently. Each time we added new hens to the flock, he welcomed them under his protective wing. Even after we solved our aerial predator problem by moving the egg-mobile into the pig pasture and providing alternative shelter in our hay barn,  Spartacus never ceased his protective measures. He called loudly to alert his girls to the presence of tasty bugs and greens, he diligently watched to skies and horizons for threats, and serviced his hens faithfully. 

Recently, though, his protectiveness began to morph into assertiveness towards his owners. He never dared to lay claw or beak on either of us, but he did start running up behind us or at us in an unpleasantly assertive manner.

 Sadly, we decided that he may have to be "retired" from his position as flock leader - it seemed the power had gone to his head. 

We weren't the only ones who had noticed his threatening moves. Harley, our border collie, who frequently joined us during our chores, began to run Spartacus off when he approached and guard our backs whenever Spartacus was nearby. The final straw came when he physically attacked our teen-aged nephew last week. No one was harmed and no blood was drawn during the incident, though Spartacus did some unplanned flying off the toe of a boot. 

It was decided, Spartacus had to go. He must have known he was on the way out, being "booted" so to speak. We'll never know what was going through his mind last night. We'll never know if it was an accident or if Spartacus really did choose to fall on his sword rather than be demoted.

 Whatever the reason, we found him gasping and almost dead, head clamped in the cattle chute head holder. We'd like to assume he fell or flew towards the gate, slid down, and got stuck accidentally. Otherwise, it's just too sad. 

-M