A few days ago was Peter's last day on Earth. As you might remember, Peter was not a good rooster. He attacked me, attacked my kids, was generally a nasty guy. That was why he didn't get a leg band way back when. Well, after his last brush with death, he stopped being aggressive for about three days. We thought that maybe, just maybe we'd scared him straight. Ha! Three days came and went, and he was back at it.
In fact, he became more aggressive, and "offing" Pete got higher and higher on my list. But it's not something I truly enjoy, you know, so I didn't try very hard to catch him, or I would find an excuse. I freely admit that. But this week he attacked again and this time drew blood. Mama had had it.
So rest in peace, Peter. I hope you find happiness in that chicken coop in the sky.