THE BLUE BOX (Recycled Ideas)
by Don Cox

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There are lots of advantages to living in the country, and probably the best one is that you can keep hens. Of course you have to fence in the vegetable garden, but aside from that I let mine go where they please. I have four hens, Lucie, Jocelyn, Doris and Heather. I provide them with all kinds of goodies like scratch feed and laying mash, and when the cats bring in dead mice and birds during the night, the hens get them too. In return they give me a steady supply of big brown eggs. It's a fair exchange. The eggs have tough shells and bright orange yolks, and are chock full of vitamins and minerals not yet known to man. You could never confuse these with the pseudo-eggs found in a supermarket. Those ones are white and tasteless and have faded yolks. I'm not even sure the supermarket eggs actually come from hens, I think they are actually giant cholesterol pills secretly produced by the pharmaceutical industry. The more of them we eat, the more heart disease medicine will be sold, and the pharmaceuticals will be able to pay even bigger dividends.

A flock of hens isn't complete without a rooster. He finds the choice beetles for his girls, and provides a flash of colour and elegance in the barnyard scene. A few years ago I had a huge rooster called T-Rex who had a chocolate addiction, and would attack anyone who didn't feed him Smarties or Rosebuds. Unfortunately he was an abusive male, and beat up on his hens so I gave him to a person who had a large flock. I understand that on one occasion he cornered a fox and did him serious damage.

My next rooster was an oversized Rhode Island red called Adolph, and he was here until just a couple of weeks ago. He had been kept in a cold barn for many winters before I got him and his comb and wattles had got frozen and deformed, so he looked like he was wearing a jaunty red sailor's cap. His left leg was out of joint, which made him walk with an exaggerated goose-step, hence his name. Adolph was easy-going at first, but as he got older, he commenced terrorizing people, especially the cleaning lady, who would sit trembling in her car until I escorted her to the house. Then Adolph would crow his victory. Adolph crowed a lot, he had a fine call and used it each time he put cat, dog, human, car, truck or tractor to flight. He left lasting scars and marks on many people and on some machinery. His clear clarion call in the mornings, his steady challenging eye, his slow purposeful walk were a part of the household ambiance.

A few weeks ago I traded Adolph for value received, and the last I saw of him was when I gently took him off the roost by his legs and lowered him into a gunnysack. I thought it was a bit strange that I should be waving goodbye as the truck drove off into the night with Adolph in the back. When I awoke the next morning, I realized there was a blank space in my life. There was an unaccustomed stillness. Morning had dawned and there were no long and jubilant announcements from the hen house. The silence was accusatory in its completeness. Something very important was missing.

Later that day I picked up my new rooster, Gordon. He's a fine stalwart Plymouth Rock with full comb and wattles, and silver wings. He's just a year old. As a matter of fact I first saw him last summer when he was just a few hours old. The black hen had been setting on the porch beside the front door for three weeks, and one morning there he was, poking his little head up between the feathers. He had been staying at a neighbour's place since last fall but now he's come home. He's a fine bird, and we are getting along famously, but there's still a sense of something missing. Adolph has left a deep and lasting mark on my psyche.

There are definitive passages in a life, and I have experienced almost all of them. At least I thought I had, now it appears that I have at least one more. I don't intend to seek professional help, I'll handle this on my own. It may be difficult, but I feel certain that I will eventually surmount the psychic barrier and achieve serenity. Then I will know that I have laid the ghost of Adolph to rest and have come to terms with my inner rooster.

Bluebox ©2001 Don Cox
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