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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Tuesday, April 15, 2008

Defending Roosters


Roosters start bragging about their various masculine attributes at 4:00 a.m. so they get a lot of criticism and death threats from the neighbors and other members of the household.

But I staunchly defend them—my beautiful dandies.

The hens think it's pretty impressive that they are so articulate at that hour so they ruffle up and bend over to show their petticoats (and whoa! sometimes much more) and pretty much do everything they can to encourage it. I'm in complete agreement with the hens as I think the boys show ambition and a readiness to get down to the job of protecting and providing but mostly —— being attractive. By the time the sun is up they are all preened and looking just gorgeous. I try to be out there bright and early to take their portraits while they are fresh and gleaming. I have seeds of many colors to encourage cooperative behavior.

Also, coercing them to associate with me, I feel I must protect them from the sleep craving basketball players who have been up all night playing WOW and talking scat on myspace. They really want to wring their necks and stew them but I assure them that I would cry and carry on and make their lives not worth living.

So I keep my roosterboys reasonably safe from becoming comestibles.

3 comments:

Wordslinger said...

At last! Another chicken lover! I love your storyline and the gorgeous paintings! I live on a farm in Idaho and although I used to date sheep, I've started a relationship with a mottled,Plymouth Rock Hen named Eggsmirelda. I know you'll understand. She's everything I ever wanted ... and more. I'm teaching her to read. More about that later. It's time for her to go outside ...

Keep up the great blog. Stay clucky.

seedmother said...

Hey wordslinger, it's great to know there is another chickenheart out there somewhere, Eggsmirelda happens to be one of my sisters, in case you didn't know, she's spoken of you many times, however, you wouldn't want me to repeat what she said.

Just between you & I, she already knows how to read and is playing you for a dumb cluck!

Watch your back…

Godless Sunday said...

Chickens Rule!

I'm so gald theres another muthaclucka in the house.