It started like any other day, except that we came home from a visit to the pet market with a little chick, no bigger than our fists. A fidgeting, chirping fluffy yellow ball, always running underfoot while trying to keep up with us.
It was a day that changed our lives.
Ever thought that you could lose your heart to one of these? It’s true. We did. From that day on, he ruled the roost.
He decided his bed time and acknowledged it by climbing up our legs and onto our shoulders where he tried to find himself a spot comfortable enough near our necks and within our hair. He got himself into tight corners, dropping his rear end into a hot cup of tea, getting caught in places he could not extract himself from. His tail stuck in a door someone accidentally closed on it, finding himself doing the moonwalk and going no where.
But Chicky went through all the stages roosters go through, his very first crow (which surprised even him). His fighting spirit (which is why they are called fighter cocks), his individual love and
dislike for different foods.
His crow was loud and raucous, once he knew how. He extended it, until it echoed in his throat. I reckon that was while it was a novelty to him. Later on his his years, he crowed after everyone in the household was awake. If anyone told you that roosters only crow at sunrise, let me put that myth to rest. Chicky crowed anytime. He hated noise and arguments and would augment any of those with his own (namely crowing). He disliked any birds flying over this view of the skyline and would emit a threatening sound from the base of his throat. He was unaware this was international bird space. He used the same technique with furniture, pecking at clothes of the one seated in a place
he wished to park himself then.
His favorite places to sleep during the day would be anyone’s lap if they were seated or chest and legs if anyone were in a horizontal position.
Usually in the evenings around 4 p.m. you would find him on Kane’s semi reclining body – perched comfortably
on his chest, sleeping deeply.
He has been with us on holidays outstation, in hotels and cars.
At first his sleeping place was in a box with a soft mattress, but he hated that. He preferred being with us and eventually he made it his own idea to perch on a chair in our bedroom where for the last two years of his life, he slept. It was easier to handle because he himself made his way to the chair and jumped up on the armrest. There was no battling to keep him inside a box and it worked for all of us.
He made it his duty to stand at the heads of Kane and Sarah every morning when he awoke until they were out of bed. If it happened to be a holiday he would stand guard over them even if it meant well
into the morning.
Sarah and Chicky played hide n seek together. Sarah would hide and call out to him and he inevitably found her
by following the sound of her voice.
Everytime someone came home, he would do his little love dance (normally reserved for hens) and he would even give us a little peck on the mouth (his version of a kiss.)
We remember him so clearly. There will never be another Chicky for us. We know that he is now in heaven, in green green grass and scratching in mud like he should have under normal circumstances. We know that he has people around him who love him as much as we do. We know it was God who took him, for he went suddenly and with no fuss and in our arms. We would never have been able to bear
the sight of him suffering.
Chicky, you take care little fellow, we love you and will see you when we get there. Trust us on this. Meanwhile we have our pictures of your sweet face and the memories so dear in our heart. So its not “Goodbye” but “See you later alligator.
With all our love forever,
| Chicky Bush |
| Sarah Lee and Kane |