The Boss

While we go through ups and downs with our kids and my parents, it's comforting to have the daily routine of taking care of the chickens, ducks, geese, and rabbits, and preparing the garden for winter.  There's always something happening and it's always interesting.  Sometimes it's entertaining, too.

Today I heard loud squawking and looked out the window just in time to see our miniature rooster, Napoleon, pick a fight with our giant goose, Augustus.  Napoleon loves to assert his authority.  Whenever we go outside, he insists on accompanying us, just to make sure we won't do anything to threaten his hens.  Maybe he wants to make sure we know who's boss.  He will perch on the fence right next to us then proceed to crow loudly, two or three times, just in case we didn't know he was there.  He's not the loudest rooster we've had, but when he is less than three feet away and on the fence, which is ear level to me, it's startling, to say the least.

If he's on the ground without a high perch close by, he will inevitably go into attack mode.  He goes for our shoes with a vengeance.  Most of the time, we experience this as "something just bumped into my leg", and instinct kicks in, literally.  I'm afraid that Napoleon has gone on several short trips flying backwards after my leg shot out, unintentionally, at his first attack.  Never one to give up after the first go, Napoleon comes right back for more.

He reminds me of the chicken hawk in the old Foghorn Leghorn cartoons.

He got more than he bargained for today when he picked a fight with Augustus.  With wings flapping, he jumped at the goose, over and over, with claws out.  Augustus simply bent down and picked up Napoleon by the feathers on his back and stood there, holding him, while our little rooster protested and kept on trying to get at the goose with his claws, wings, and beak.  Haven't I seen something like that in a cartoon?

I didn't let it go on.  Augustus is incredibly strong and might have hurt or even killed Napoleon, without meaning to.  I ran outside in my bedroom slippers.  This sight alone must have startled Augustus into dropping the rooster.  Whatever it was, the goose was content with letting go.

Napoleon, however... that was another story.  He puffed himself up, mortally offended that I had come to his rescue.  He looked at me as if to say, "I was doing fine.  I almost had him there.  Why'd'ya have to ruin it?"

I suggested to Napoleon that he might be a bit more grateful.  I had just saved his life, after all.

He pretended to ignore that comment and glared at me sideways...

until I turned to go back in.  That's when he attacked my slippers.

We know who's boss.