An Ode to Artemis

I'm not in a good place at the moment. Last Thursday (3rd September 2015) was a bad day for me. I had to have my prize rooster and the love of my girls' life euthanised because he broke his leg during a fight with Peeps, the other rooster in the flock.

Now we all know it's not a good idea to have two roosters together, but I did not know Peeps was a rooster when I rescued him from certain death as a two-day old. He grew up in my studio with Snoodles and when they were both big enough to join the flock, they went outside. Of course Artemis tolerated the youngster, but always letting him understand who's actually King of the roost. And Peeps always obliged, keeping his distance and staying out of harm's way.

Artemis surveying his dominion from his favourite perch, keeping an eye on the girls

But as time progressed and Peeps got bigger and stronger, he wasn't so keen any more to give way and every now and then he would challenge the king, but always ended up retreating to a safe corner.

Artemis has seen it all, been there, done that, sending other rivals packing in great haste. During one such altercation with a previous rooster, Mr. Chook, for whom I had to find a new home because of the constant fighting, Artemis's top part of his beak was broken almost completely off, just hanging by a thread. I glued it back on with some plastic putty and luckily it took and grew back on, the plastic putty dropping off after a few weeks.

Injuries sustained with an earlier altercation with Peeps

Soon he was a good as new and ruling the roost once again with an iron claw.

Artemis was an excellent husband and provider, always finding the best tit-bits and passing them on to one of the girls. Here Hetty came rushing after he found a nice juicy cutworm in the compost heap.

Artemis strutting his stuff on the patio

Artemis surrounded by some of the girls after he called them for a tasty snack he had found

Artemis in full glorious colour after a successful molt

Beauty in motion

Artemis taking one of his few well-deserved breaks after all the girls had settled down for a snooze under the plants

Artemis was also the inspiration for many a sketch I made of him and the girls, who can resist such beauty?

Artemis with his broken leg

After hearing quite a raucous outside one afternoon, the girls cackling and screaming, I went out to see what's happening and everybody was clustered in the centre of the lawn (including Peeps), but Artemis was nowhere to be seen. After a search, I found him under some plants, lying down with his leg at a terrible angle and his comb and neck feathers covered in blood. Obviously there had been a fight, as Peeps was also covered in blood.

I carefully picked Artemis up, hurrying inside with him to assess the damage. After cleaning off all the blood, he seemed perfectly fine, apart from his loosely dangling leg. There was no external damage, but I decided to take him to the vet anyway for an examination. The prognosis was not good and all he could do was give some pain killers and an anti-inflammatory.

For two weeks I kept a close eye on Artemis, despairing at the fact that he could hardly get to the food or water, struggling along, hopping short distances on his one leg and supporting himself with his left wing, tiring quickly and lying down again. During this time, he and the girls were kept in the run with Peeps being banished to a separate coop until Artemis was better.

By last week Thursday, after almost 3 weeks, there was absolutely no improvement and I could feel that he had lost weight. Off to the vet again. It was abvious I had two choices - either have him put down or carry on trying. I contemplated the consequences, both for him and me, if I should go that route of trying, and although my heart was screaming "keep on trying! keep on trying!", I decided that it was not fair to Artemis and that it was better to have him put to sleep. 

I held him in my arms as the vet administered the injection and cried and cried as he flapped his last death throes.

Peeps has now taken over the perch from which to keep an eye on the girls and is trying his best to meet the high standards Artemis set, taking little snacks from me and now calling the girls to come and get it in stead of gobbling it up himself like previously.

And so goes the cycle of life on a smallholding...

A loving moment - Kiep, Artemis's favourite wife, gently preening his wounds after a fight with Mr. Chook

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A bath and a clean nest

After Kiep's broodiness finished a couple of days ago, I decided she needed a bath after sitting on her golf ball for almost a month. She looked decidedly drab and worse for the wear and needed a bit of special TLC.

I prepared some luke warm water in a tub and put her in. At first she struggled a bit (it was her first bath ever), but the minute she felt the warmth of the water, she actually lay down! I gently shampooed her back, chest and vent area, careful not to ruffle her feathers too much.

I remembered using vinegar as a youngster to rinse my hair after a wash when we'd run out of conditioner and it always left my hair soft and shiny. So, after a first rinse, I transferred Kiep to another tub with a bit of vinegar in the water, gave her a good rinsing, dried her gently with a towel and then used the hair dryer to get her nice and dry. I was a bit worried about the noise of the hair dryer, but she seemed to enjoy it, fluffing up her feathers to let in the hot air.

Kiep sunning herself in the bathroom court-yard

After she was all nice and dry, and oh so extremely soft and fluffy! we went out into the bathroom court-yard, where she spent a while preening and getting her feathers in the correct order again and when she was ready, I led her out to the main garden where she immediately rushed up to Artemis, greeting him with some wing-flapping and a lot of prancing around.

Kiep meeting up with Artemis after her bath

Spending some time with Artemis in the garden after a nice warm bath

Now it was time to also clean out her nest-box, which is on top of one of my art tables in my studio. I cleaned out the box thoroughly, put in fresh grass and then placed it back, all nice and clean.

Later in the morning she strutted into my studio to deliver her breakfast, but it turned into a big to-do. She took one look at the nest and, horrified, she proceeded to unpack all the grass and then putting it back to her liking before settling down to the serious job of laying the egg!

Her eggs are different after this last broody incident, much bigger and not so white, more brown.

My little girl is growing up now…

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Kentucky, my pet Rooster

Hope is a thing with feathers. 

That perches in the soul. 

And sings the tunes without the words. 

And never stops at all. 

- Verse from Emily Dickinson poem 

Watercolour on Bockingford

Besides my love for all animals, and for birds in particular, my love affair with chickens started in the late 70’s, when we bought our first smallholding (Tarlton, Gauteng, South Africa) and, of course, the first thing anybody on a smallholding does, is get chickens, ducks and geese!

After a couple of months of settling in on our new smallholding, I was given some Bantam chickens by a neighbour, and there was a mad scramble to erect some chicken coups. They were prolific little breeders and soon the yard was full of mothers with little chicks , all running like mad for a tit-bit when they see me.

One newly-hatched little fellow, however, seemed not to be able to keep up with the rest, so I duly ‘rescued’ him, carrying him around in a basket and feeding him at every opportunity. The result was Kentucky, the most beautiful specimen of a rooster I had ever seen, with bright, coppery feathers adorning his neck and the most beautiful blue, black and burgundy tail feathers a rooster could wish for! Although he ruled his chosen hens with an iron claw, he always was a bit of a loner, spending hours following me around, hens in tow, or roosting on the back of the couch in the lounge (with lots of newspapers on the floor!)

He spent many years with me, preferring to roost in the tree outside my bedroom window, in stead of the chicken coup with the rest, and my heart was broken when I went out one morning and found part of him under the tree, half eaten, killed by a Genet during the night. But he lives in my heart forever and I’m sure he’s still watching over me from chicken heaven.

My apologies that I haven't got any photographs, but this was in the days before I had a computer, wasn't much into photography and, of course, wasn't blogging yet!

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Kiep and her red bandana

Kiep, wearing her red bandana around her neck, ready to deliver this morning's breakfast. Her nest is in my studio, on one of my art tables. She grew up here in my studio since I rescued her as a day-old two and a half years ago after being abandoned by her mother. She now spends her days outside with all the other chickens, but daily, without fail, she returns to her nest to lay her egg and then spending some time sitting on my lap or in the bottom drawer of my desk, chatting to me. 

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Chook (and Doris)

W&N watercolour on DalerRowney 220gsm (135lb) Smooth heavy-weight sketching paper 

This is Chook, my other rooster (besides Artemis) and he’s a Silky x Bantam, and almost twice Artemis’s size. But he runs like the wind if Artemis should even just look in his direction! Out of my 8 hens, he’s got three that dare to defy Artemis and hang out with him – Doris, Babs and Ginger. They’re actually very brave, because besides incurring Artemis’s wrath, Chook is rather large and almost squashes them while “having his way with them”!

CHOOK AND DORIS PLANNING AN ESCAPE :

Chook: You know what the problem is? The fences aren’t just round the farm. They’re up here, in your head. There’s a better place out there, somewhere beyond that hill, and it has wide open places, and lots of trees… and grass. Can you imagine that? Cool, green grass. 

Doris: Who feeds us? 

Chook: We feed ourselves. 

Doris: Where’s the farm? 

Chook: There IS no farm! 

Doris: Then, where does the farmer live? 

Chook: There is no farmer, Doris. 

Doris: Is he on holiday? 

Chook: He isn’t anywhere! Don’t you get it? There’s no morning head count, no farmers, no dogs and coops and keys, and no Artemis and fences!

Doris: In all my life I’ve never heard such a fantastic… load of tripe!

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The dispute

This is Artemis, still suffering from the aftermath of a fight with Chook, my other rooster. These two have been at loggerheads for a long time now, with Chook always being the underdog and taking flight whenever Artemis came near. A couple of days ago, Chook decided ‘enough is enough!’ and turned and faced his aggressor with dire results.

Both suffered extensive injuries (they both have extremely long and dangerous spurs) and it ended up with Chook pinning Artemis, totally exhausted, flat on the ground and not letting go of his grip. We had to separate the two and Chook is currently in the ‘holding pen’ with me deciding the fate of the two – one has to go and it’s a difficult decision I’m not able to make easily. Chook is the friendliest of the two, coming right up to me and begging for a tit-bit, following me around to see if I have more, and Artemis is the beautiful ladies’ man, preferred above Chook by all the hens, who adore and follow him everywhere, succumbing to his every whim.

Artemis and Chook wanting to continue the territorial dispute...

Chook keeping a watchful eye open for Artemis...

What to do...?

Canon EOS 550 D – Sigma 70-300 Zoom lens – 9’ manual focus
Location : Tarlton, Gauteng, South Africa

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Kiep and her Red Bandanna

Kiep, wearing her red bandanna around her neck, ready to deliver this morning's breakfast. Her nest is in my studio, on one of my art tables. She grew up here in my studio since I rescued her as a day-old 18 months ago after being abandoned by her mother. She now spends her days outside with all the other chickens, but daily, without fail, she returns to her nest to lay her egg and spend some time sitting in the bottom drawer of my desk, chatting to me. 

Camera : Canon EOS 550D

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