The first sound I hear when I awake each morning is little Roscoe crowing. I hadn’t even though about not hearing him til I went out to let the chickens out and discovered LOTS of white feathers in the chicken run. About dusk every evening, Roscoe would fly up into a tree just over the chicken run and as soon as it got daylight, he would fly down to the ground but this morning . . only feathers and no Roscoe.
It was probably an owl. I’m wondering is Miss Hattie is going to notice he’s gone. The red pecking chicken, Sally, sleeps out too but she’s still here this morning.
Yes, I cried a few tears over losing Roscoe. I will miss my beautiful, sweet rooster.