Chicken Story Redux

For some reason, one evening Tim brought home several baby chicks, a duckling, and a full-grown rooster. He said we would eventually BBQ and eat them when they were full grown, but I had my doubts.
Well, the chicks died during a thunderstorm, leaving only the duckling and the rooster. The duckling was very cute, as all ducklings are, but it grew into a very large duck very quickly. The rooster was a pain in the ass, making noise and drawing attention from the neighbors. We found this out when the police showed up at our door to inform us that we couldn't keep "livestock" within the city limits. We were about to move anyway, but the cop told us we had to get rid of them that day.

There was a little old lady down the street that Tim somehow knew, and she'd been eyeing the duck hungrily for quite some time. The last we ever saw of the duck was his little black eyes, as he cocked his head, looking backward over the little old lady's shoulder at us as she waddled down the block with him.

The rooster was another matter. I tried to take him to a farm out near where our trailer had burned down, but the process of putting a chicken into a milkcrate, strapped onto the back of a motorcycle, is much more difficult than it sounds. So the chicken stayed. We were afraid of the police coming back, but they never did, and a few days later we were moving out the last of our things. Tim still hadn't found a home for the rooster, so he decided that the humane thing to do was to "euthanize" it.

Our back yard was full of dead branches that had been cut from a tree which had grown into the powerlines overhead, and as such it was very hard to navigate. For a human.

For a chicken, on the other hand, it was quite easy to get around, affording all kinds of nooks and crannies to hide in.

Anyway, the time had come, and Tim had originally intended to just shoot the rooster with Rodney's shotgun, but we convinced him that gunfire in the back yard was likely to draw the attention of the nasty neighbors, and eventually, the cops. So Tim decided he could just kill it by whacking it with a 2x4. The problem was, that rooster was fast. Much faster than Tim, as it turned out.

After several misses, with the rooster running in and out of the debris in the yard, Tim finally connected with it. Only he didn't hit it in the head; he hit it right in the side. The rooster went flying sideways across the yard as the result of the blow, but the blow didn't kill it. Far from it.

It was definitely messed up though, and at this point so was Tim. You could tell right away that the rooster was badly injured, but because of al the debris in the yard, Tim had to chase the thing for several more minutes and hit it 3 more times with misplaced blows before the thing finally died.

All in all, what makes for a funny story in a short retelling was a gruesome episode of good intentions evolving into violence. Not a pretty sight.

If the lady across the street ever decides to do for her chicken, I'm going to be somewhere else, thinking of puppies or some other happier thing.