Well, the day has finally arrived.
I knew it would.
It was inevitable.
Things couldn't continue as they have this past year forever.
The frat pack has spread its wings....
broadened its horizons....
And life will never be the same again!
For the past year, ever since they were old enough to leave the nest,
my six Ameraucana roosters have lived the bachelor's life
in the small chicken house up by our log home.
I pass these fellows on each trip back and forth to the barn.
They are always together, strutting and crowing in a constant display of male prowess.
Yesterday, however, there were only five.
Hmmmmmm.....I am always fearful of "fowl play"
(see yesterday's post)
and worried that perhaps a predator had taken one Roo hostage.
I continued down our driveway and turned onto the lane through the orchard...
no sign of him anywhere.
Arriving at the barn, Jim met me
(Jim does my Wednesday farm chores - giving me one day off each week)
saying, "Hey , I noticed there were only five Roos up by the house this morning!"
"Yea", I said, "I couldn't find number six either."
I stopped in the henhouse to chat with Barbie.
"I think I lost a Roo", I told her.
"Don't worry" she said, "Roos can take care of themselves. He'll turn up."
And then under her breath I heard her sigh, "Unfortunately!"
All of a sudden, outside the barn in the dry lot I heard Monique (Fifi's cousin)
cackling and exclaiming, "Un homme! Un homme! Un homme Americain tres bel!"
(The Marans speak French, of course!...." A man, a man, a handsome American man!" she exclaimed!)
"Well, I think you found your rooster" said Jim.
Sure enough, there was number six beneath the picnic table
showing off for all of the French ladies outside the barn.
It's all my fault, you know.
It's because of that sign.
You know the one...
"you are here!"
I knew I shouldn't have advertised where the hens were.
It was just a matter of time until the Roos read that sign.
It will be interesting to see if the rest of the Frat Pack makes its way up to the barn.
Perhaps number six will keep this a secret.
After all, there are 26 young French gals just waiting for his next visit.
"Hey guys" he'll nonchalantly say to his friends, " I'm going for a walk."
"Where ya goin?" they'll ask.
"Nowhere, just for a walk through the orchard," he'll say, the big grin on his face well hidden.
"Life is good!" for an American in Paris!