Rosie the Rooster

Rosie entered the Levy home as a chick, hopefully and preferably a hen. (S)he was packed about the yard, tucked under arm, as my grandchildren discovered the joys of raising chickens. As it turned out, chicken droppings, collected on the soles of tennis shoes and traipsed through the house, ended the chicken romance and the birds were packed up and sent to live with us in Silver Springs. By that time Rosie declared himself a rooster and was delighted to meet the harem of hens residing in our coop.

We noticed the personality disorder immediately. This docile "hen" turned out to be a fierce rooster and ruled the roost with iron spurs. We were all afraid of Rosie, the hens and people alike. He stalked all of us and jumped up, ready to cock fight with barely a moments notice. We learned quickly, never to turn your back on this bird for he was poised to attack. "What the hell is wrong with him?" I lamented to my friend and resident chicken expert. She explained that Rosie had "berserk rooster syndrome," a malady that sometimes affects birds raised by hand. They have no fear of humans and don't hesitate to challenge them. I knew then that Rosie had to go....

Bill went outside on a Saturday morning and came back in to tell me that Rosie was loose. They acknowledged each other, Bill turned westward out the front door and Rosie headed east. All of a sudden Bill heard a whirring sound behind him as Rosie careened through the air, ready to attack Bill. Leaping out of the way, Bill grabbed the garden hose and the battle was on. He swung the hose over his head, aiming for Rosie. The first toss fell short, but the second was a hit. Rosie was stunned. Meanwhile Bill, convinced that Rosie was to meet his maker that day, went to sharpen his axe.

Rosie hobbled to the backyard as Bill was preparing to "do him in" and he sought cover under the vegetation. When Bill was ready, Rosie was gone. We looked and looked, but never saw him again. I'll admit that I felt a tad fearful, going outside with the berserk rooster unaccounted for, but in time I relaxed for I knew that he was gone. He was a beautiful rooster, gone bad. RIP