One morning last week, I walked out the door to feed the cat herd and was surprised by not a cat but a bird.
A very pretty rooster to be exact.
Although, I am not sure pretty is a word that should be used to describe a rooster, but his plumage truly is inspiring.
When he spotted my frumpy, middle-aged house wife visage, the bird squawked most foul and frightenedly, and bolted for the tree line beyond the yard.
I was amused.
Later, when I went out to cut some chives, there he was again, scratching in the yard. He took off running again, and I found myself calling out,
"Hold up, Harold, these here be friendly parts!"
Harold didn't believe me.
But he didn't leave the farm either. For the past week he has been slowly becoming a fixture round the house. Pecking up spare bits of cat food that the cats knock off their food railing, leaving a few deposits in my carport...grr, and gradually getting so used to my presence womping about that by Wednesday he didn't run away anymore when I exited the house.
I have no idea who he belongs too. I do have an interesting city transplant a few five acre blocks over who is conducting the grand homesteader experiment, so maybe Harold is his? I'm not sure and will inquire at some point.
But for now, Harold is fun to observe.
In fact, I am surprised that Harold seems to like me, for when I was cleaning Wednesday, my son's mischievous Void, Jojo-cat, decided to bring in a dead mouse for me to, well, admire? I promptly scooped it up in the dustpan, told her good job, and tossed it outside. The cats know they are to keep their occupational dispatches in the outer realm.
Apparently Jojo didn't get the memo.
Two more mouse encounters on my freshly mopped floor later found me stomping out to the tree line, mouse-laden dustpan in hand. I think it was Jojo's insolent stare as she rabbit-kicked the mouse across my sparkling floor that did my attitude in. I tossed that poor little expired mouse into the trees with style and anger grace.
I also hit Harold with it. He exploded out of the trees with much fanfare.
The Mouse Incident aside, he has grown on me, and now will come right up to my feet and eat the bits and bobbles that I offer to him.
Harold's good peeps.
We'll see if he sticks around though. We've had animals come and go on the farm over the years, peacocks, turkeys, horses, moose, even Kune Kune pigs. Through it all I try to practice a bit of kindness to the wandering creatures and will freely admit I enjoy their antics.
Plus, you never know if they are something in disguise! They aren't gonna catch me off guard.馃槈
And as most of the time, all of the images in this post were taken on the author's in possession of yet more chicken pictures iPhone.