END OF THE ROAD

Last month Road Runner developed a hoarse voice, and his crow was only half a crow. This last week he started looking really bedraggled. I knew he was failing but nothing I tried was helping him.

Tonight, Road Runner succumbed to whatever ailed him.

Road Runner was one of the chicks we hatched in 2020. My grandson Emmett named him Road Runner because, as a little chick, he would run through the brooder at top speed like a crazy chicken.

As the rooster of the flock, it took him awhile to figure out how to be a gentleman to the hens, but once he did, it was a pleasure to watch him roaming the yard, scratching a spot and calling the hens over.

His people skills, unfortunately, never improved. In that regard, he was on the naughty list most of his life. He absolutely hated Oscar and jumped him at every opportunity. When he attacked my youngest grandson once, his future (or lack of a future!) was under serious consideration. He even nailed me a couple of times. You definitely did not want to turn your back on him. He thought he was doing his job, he just never figured out that not everyone was a foe.