A Quiet Week in Diamond Bar

It's been a quiet week here in Diamond Bar...I've been feeling somewhat subdued. 

First of all, I came in from AZ last weekend (drove over on Friday and back on Sunday).  I do love to take off in the car and go somewhere.  I bought a book on CD that had 15 CD's and promised 18 hours of listening.  It makes the drive go by a lot faster because I'm focussed on the story. Had a great couple of days with Jen, Tony and Izzie (I mean "Ellie").  It's always hard to leave them. The drive through the desert was beautiful--everything was blooming yellow and purple.  I always am amazed at the colors God puts together with such harmony.

Then the first part of the week we learned that our long time fellow pastor and friend had gone home to be with Jesus.  While we rejoice that he is no longer confined in his weak earthly body, we grieve with his family for their loss.

Then, the week at work was slow, so it seemed to go on forever...

So, I think it's time for the Puls Chicken Saga:

When Joanna, our youngest daughter was in 5th grade, she went with her class at school and spent a week out a Rawhide Ranch.  They got to take care of horses, feed the chickens, etc.  When she came home, she asked if she could have some chickens, and of course, I said "No." 

However, a couple of weeks later, Joanna had a birthday party, and one of her guests showed up with two paper bags and guess what was in them.  A couple of chicks!  I'd have loved to get my hands on the mom who thought that was an ok gift to give, but there we were with 2 chicks. 

We had a some kind of a hamster cage, so we put the chicks in the cage to keep them away from our 3 very large dogs.  It worked pretty well for a while.  I'd say the chicks were about half grown when the dogs apparently figured out how to get the door to the cage open and I went out in the morning to an empty cage, a young rooster running around the yard and a young hem lying on the ground with her eye cocked at the sky, barely breathing.  I picked up the hen and brought her into the laundry room and woke Joanna up to tell her that her hen was dying.  By the time we got down to the laundry room, that hen was out of the box running around in circles.  Obviously NOT dying.

Fast forward another couple of months.  We had by then confined the hen & rooster to a small fenced in area of the yard and for the most part they were safe.  However, once again, they got out and I went out into the yard to see the rooster strutting around the big yard and the dogs surrounding the hen, who was lying on the ground, again staring at the sky...not even breathing!  This time her neck looked suspiciously damp as if one of the dogs had been dragging her around.  I chased the dogs away from her and herded the rooster, now almost fully grown, back into the fenced area.  Apparently the dogs were afraid of him, so they only picked on the hen.  By the time I got the dogs confined and went back to collect the dead chicken, she had once again miraculously risen from the dead and was running around the yard.  I guess she wasn't as dumb as she seemed.

They lived in that part of the yard for a year or so and then, one day, the hen was really dead.  Apparently she died of natural causes, but I have a theory that the rooster just plain wore her out.  I guess roosters are used to having a whole bunch of hens to keep them happy, and he only had one.  He would not leave her alone and I think he was just too much rooster for her.

We had to move shortly after that.  While we could take the dogs with us, we had nowhere to take the rooster.  Now, given the neighborhood we were living in, we probably could have just let him go, but didn't feel right about that.  We finally found a livestock and feed store a few miles away that said they would take him if we brought him in.  Seemed simple enough...

None of us had ever picked up a full grown rooster and this one would go into attack mode if we attempted to go into his private yard.  Joanna and I braved the fury of the rooster and went in armed with a broom, a large cardboard box and a rope.  A neighbor came over to watch--had no helpful sugggestions to offer at all.   While Joanna held him off with the broom, I put the rope down on the ground in a lasso and tried to snag his feet if he stepped in the middle of the loop.  It took us the better part of an hour to catch the silly bird, but I finally had him hanging upside down by a rope and we dropped him into the box and closed the top.  Joanna had to hold the box in the car to keep him from leaping out and attacking the driver and possibly causing a terrible accident.

We arrived at the feed store and went in with our chicken-in-a-box.  The girl that worked there said she wanted to "check him out."  We warned her that "he bites", but she just opened the box, reached her hand in, grabbed him by the throat and hauled him out.  She was trying to inspect him, when he tried to peck her.  Grabbing him by his neck and squeezing until his beak popped open, she said "We don't do that here.  Knock it off."  Sufficiently subdued, he let her carry him to a nearby chicken pen where there were several other chickens.  As soon as she set him down, he flew at her just like he always did with us, but she just calmly dropped kicked him into the pen and locked the gate. 

That was the last we ever saw of the rooster that held 3 large dogs and a family of six at bay with his ferociousness.  I'm sure there is a point that can be made from this, but I'm stumped, so nothing "profound' this post...just a chicken story.