In Defense of Roosters

In Defense of Roosters

Seedmother DOES NOT ask for donations.

Seedmother is really an artist and commercial illustrator who happens to have an affinity for "chicken life". Chickens inspire my art and I want to share my appreciation of them with others who feel the same way. I have created an array of quality novelty products for the enjoyment of alektorophiles. (I made that up, alektorophobia means fear of chickens so I constructed a logical antonym/neologism).

If that sentiment and my artistic expression strikes your fancy as an effort worth supporting, I appreciate your business. But regardless, please enjoy, read the stories and maybe share a laugh or a tear. The stories are anthropomorphized but largely true, although, I've taken a few liberties with the chronology.

It's best to read the episodes from oldest to newest if this is your first visit.

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It would be nice if we could just get rid of plastic bags altogether.

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Sunday, April 20, 2008


I finally accepted that Sola wasn't going to let me do anything more than be the seedmom from a distance…so I reluctantly accepted her chicken wisdom and stayed back. However, those chicks were never wanting for seeds.

But life is cruel even for the innocent. A true life drama over the next day presented me with a moral dilemma. We heard the chicken alarm and ran outside to find that one of the hatchlings had been attacked by a mongoose and was badly injured and I had to sit by and watch nature work it's harsh justice.
Poor little chick was stunned and couldn't get up so I put him on a cool green ap‘e leaf so he could die in peace. They rarely recover but amazingly after a few hours he was able to hop on one leg. It was pitiful watching him try to keep up with Sola and the brood. I kept coaxing her near him with seeds so he wouldn't have to work so hard. Finally he learned to follow her clucking and I thought he might be ok but then I saw her, along with the other chicks, pecking him mercilessly. Then she started picking him up in her beak and tossing him. Poor little guy, just kept hopping after her. Tragic nature.
I named him Chester (from Gunsmoke). We've tried saving injured chicks before, they always seem to die overnight. I was so torn, I could have possibly saved him from his Mom but he never would have been able to take care of himself. We listened to his pitiful peeping under the house until dark…now he's gone, we won't ever know how he died. Poor little Chester, I hope he went peacefully.

1 comment:

Godless Sunday said...

Thanks, now I'm crying.
But you did the right thing.

Chicks Man, they break your heart everytime.