Sadness and Hope

This weekend I lost my black Pekin, Tsoana. She had been wandering around listlessly and I was really at a loss. Do you save a chicken? Take it to the vet? How much is a pet chicken a pet? Part of me worried that she had something contagious and I should kill her before she contaminated the others. Part of me wanted her to die quickly, I could not stand the way she wouldn’t even run away at my approach. You see my chickens may be friendly, but I have no plans to teach them tricks like eating out of my hand. I like that they see me as an other.

This is a strange way to re-start my blog. Pula, the original voice of Coqtales will likewise be no more. He is definitely here in real-life, prancing around, identifying tasty morsels for his wives and crowing with reckless pleasure and fearlessness. I have heard another crowing in the distance. Maybe this chicken-thing is catching on in the neighbourhood. He will disappear as the protagonist of these musings. No more human-rooster chimera. This may diminish the canny observations of a chicken-point-of-view but maybe it will be less confusing to the casual reader.

This time around we are human all the way. The topics will hover around the same juncture. My exploits in the garden, in the yoga studio and my meanderings in-between.

On a happier note, Nonyana, the seabright of the harem is sitting. I was curious what a coupling of her and Pula would produce. At first I was all terror. I could not find her you see. She is the smallest hen and as much as they have taught me every nook and cranny of my back garden, Nonyana is always a challenge. Her creamy colouring and true bantam size at a time when my garden begins to turn to jungle always leaves me a little apprehensive when she disappears and it’s all too clear that she must be sitting. When I did find her I had a big think about eggs and babies. I left one on her nest. Hope. Hope that the egg is a she.