I take the old chap out when I have a moment, and with me watching out for the other cockerels who would severely injure Cogburn if they could, he will shuffle around the grass with a controlled kind of excitement, always clucking gently to himself as he does so.
I have to constantly talk to him when we go out, and with that meagre contact, he regains his confidence and pride and stretches himself tall in response to the breeze and the sun.
It never ceases to move me.
A creature who by all accounts should have died a long time ago, is living and thriving, with his own little troupe of hens for company. He has adapted to his life in darkness by learning how to feel his way with his big fat feathered feet, and as animals have a want to do, he is just getting on with things....to creatures like him..there is no alternative
This morning we walked for a bit through the wet grass, followed by a few of the tame warrens and flanked by the sheep, who curious as ever, wanted to give the strange bird with the goose stepping feet the once over.
We made a bizarre specticle as we made our way slowly through the field
Who would have thought a blind old cockerel would be important enough to have his own blog entry?Go Figure