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Marty Poopins will be euthanized this afternoon. He began attacking the hens. Roosters who can’t do their jobs must be fired before they end up killing one of the hens they are supposed to protect. I have no doubt he would eventually kill one. We would have a dead Dirty Birdie (or any of the others) and still have to kill Marty Poopins.

Why doesn’t he attack me? He has attacked everyone else, so I’m certain he eventually would. Wouldn’t he have attacked all the people before starting on the hens though? He pecked my toe the first time he went outside in the grass as a chick and once a couple of months ago. Does that count? I think he bit me last week, but I’m not sure. Definition of a Marty Poopins bite: open beak, touch human arm with side of beak (although that’s not how he bit my husband). Why couldn’t he just attack me instead of his hens? I may never know.

Mike the Chicken Vet recently posted an article on his blog about euthanasia and I hope it’s widely read. I’m thankful my Marty Poopins likes to be held, otherwise the needle would be a terrible option for him.

We covered the sides of the brooder with a patterned sheet when they were babies and it was freezing outside. Somehow he was the only one who imprinted on the sheet. It’s funny to watch him scratch on it, make a nest, make broody hen sounds, then make the post-oviposition cackle. He’ll have his blankey and me petting his wattles.

My DAR magnet has Psalm 91.4 printed on it with a nice picture of an eagle. I firmly believe the verse symbolizes God as a rooster. That is easily misconstrued and does sound like blasphemy. After receiving His blessings through a rooster, I just can’t interpret it any other way.

He will cover you with His feathers, and under His wings you will find refuge; His faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.


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