Farewell Red

So Red is our majestic Rhode Island Red Rooster. He was supposed to be a hen in our first batch of chickens. Red was gentleman, both to his girls and to us as well. Unlike other roosters, he always put his hens first. He'd scratch up a goodie, pull it out of the grass and set it down and call his ladies. When the feed was dished out, he'd back up and let the hens go first, patiently waiting for them to finish up. He kept his ladies together, and in the stillness of the early morning, his crow would reverberate throughout the holler.

Red (on right) and Alfredo watching over some of the hens

Two days ago, we found Red in the bottom of the coop. He couldn't stand up. He didn't have any wounds, and for all intent and purposes he looked fine. I carried him up to the house and put him in a hospital pen. At first he ate, and he had a terrific thirst. Yesterday he stopped eating, this morning I noticed that his comb was dark, and was almost purple. He was breathing hard, and within an hour had passed away.

Farewell Red.