Four Weedings and a Funeral

Why is it that the mayhem always occurs on the weekend?

I was hoping for a relatively calm weekend...

spent in the garden, happily weeding my vegetable boxes.

I must admit,

I did get the weeding done.

Thanks to Hubbs.

Hubbs took care of afternoon chores each day

so that I could concentrate on the gardening.

Unfortunately, though, while I was peacefully gardening...

Hubbs was brutally attacked and beaten

by Hank.

Hank, the aggressive, menacing, flogging rooster.

Now, if you have been following the saga of Hank,

you will remember that several weeks ago I was ready to

turn Hank into stew.

But, no.....

Hubbs wanted to try to rehabilitate Hank.

(Enter the super-soaker...negative reinforcement for bad behavior)

Hubbs was convinced we could turn Hank 

into a farm-friendly rooster.

Hubbs held onto that notion.

Until Friday afternoon.

I was peacefully gardening.

Hubbs was gathering eggs.

When suddenly.....

BAM!

Before he knew what hit him,

he was bleeding profusely.

Hank had run in from the field....

into the chicken pen....

into the chicken house....

and flogged Hubbs...

catching him....

totally

off

 guard!

Not thinking, but reacting out of instinct,

Hubbs gave Hank a swift kick and sent 

him flying.

Off, into the field ran Hank...

out of sight.

That night, Hank did not return to the barn,

as was his custom.

Hubbs was overwrought with guilt and remorse,

fearing that his kick had broken a rib, punctured a lung,

and sent Hank into the woods to die a slow and painful death.

The next morning, however......

Hank came happily out of the henhouse

(he never sleeps there....always alone in the barn)

and sang his usual cock-a-doodle-doo.

I laughed, hysterically...

and called Hubbs....to ease his pain.

"Hank lives,"  I said.

Not for long, we agreed.

With a summer full of farm tours,

 (several groups of children)

we cannot have an attack rooster on the premises.

Unfortunately, Hank's reputation preceded him...

making him un-adoptable.

We had only one choice.....

an honorable death for Hank.

Hank was a warrior who lived by the sword.

It was only fitting that he should die by the sword, too.

(in the form of a painless lethal injection of barbiturate)

Good bye, Hank.

We will miss you...

Not.

PS....There is a principle that we try to live by, here on the farm.  It is best described with the Sanskrit word...Ahimsa... the principle of refraining from harming any living thing.  We tried our best with Hank.

Many advised us to cook him.  Somehow, we just couldn't bring ourselves to do that.  It seemed that euthanasia was the kindest solution.  Although we are glad to be rid of this menace, we do feel some remorse.