Last fall, I wrote this poem about a little silkie rooster that I have. I got Ronnie as a small little fluffy chick. He was so cute that I decided to keep him when I was getting rid of roosters. Little did I know what he had in store for us...
Rotten Ronnie the Rooster.
Once there was a rooster, cute and small.
He ruled the roost, he ruled them all.
He was small, and he was neat.
He was so fast upon his feet.
Feathers so silkie, soft and red.
He had a poof up on his head.
Eyes of brown, smart and bright.
He kept them peeled to start a fight.
He would strut and he would walk.
Quite the character, this little cock.
He was small, but he didn't know.
He would keep them all in tow!
All the roosters would run and flee.
When Rotten Ronnie, they did see!
The Fonze would run and he would hide.
In a small nest box, he would abide.
When Rotten Ronnie was about,
Even the hens would scream and shout!
Ronnie, Ronnie proud and cool.
Had the Mo-jo to make old men drool.
From hen to hen, he would run.
Getting some action was his fun!
Question of fertility was never in doubt,
When Rotten Ronnie was lurking about.
Turkey's, Dachshunds, he'd come on the fly.
Who would believe it from such a small guy?
All the big roosters, would quiver with fear.
From around the corner, Ronnie would appear.
Finally the day came, I could take it no more!
Rotten Ronnie had to go, a new home in store!
Maybe a new flock would make him behave.
Maybe the one chance his soul to save.
So warning and returns, I did arrange.
But I had high hopes his attitude would change.
But change it did not, I was saddened to hear.
Ronnie really is rotten!, the message did appear.
Ronnie wouldn't leave ANYTHING alone.
He had to come back to his old home.
In a diaper box, to home he did ride.
Where something that stinks, should abide.
Poor Rotten Ronnie, stuck in a pen.
Without any love or even a hen.
I think his intentions were to do alright.
But all that he did was look for a fight.
All that running has made him a waste.
Probably tough as a boot, he would taste.
And now I sit and ponder what to do?
Should I change Rotten Ronnie into stew?
Well, I have to tell you, we still have Rotten Ronnie, all these months later. Here's what happened.
Rotten Ronnie to a holding pen he did go
With the eating roosters, on death row.
But Ronnie Ronnie, bad and mean,
Made those roosters cower and scream.
That could not be, it would not work.
Why, oh why, was he such a jerk?
So out we let him to free range.
But his time away had brought a change.
Into the yard a new rooster had come to stay.
Boris the Ameraucana, to save the day!
Ronnie was tough and he was bad.
But Boris was tougher and he was mad!
And so with jumping and kicking they did fight.
Ronnie and Boris dueled until the night.
And when dawn broke, the winner was clear.
Rotten Ronnie hid, and quivered in fear.
Ronnie, Ronnie, small and meek.
Hid by the tree for over a week.
Oh so lonely, with his head hung low.
Poor old Ronnie didn't know where to go.
And so to people for company he turned.
An important lesson had been learned.
Rejected and alone with his head hung low.
Our heart string tugged for the poor fellow.
Keep him we would, if he would only behave.
A second chance to give him, his soul to save.
And now Ronnie resides with roosters galore.
In the bachelor pad he lives until it's spring once more.
And so you have it. The story of Rotten Ronnie. His attitude is completely different these days. He's a meek and mellow little fellow. When I go in the Bachelor pad he comes and stands by my feet for a pet, and right beside his is The Fonze. They get along fine now. Funny how it all turned out, and we almost ate Rotten Ronnie.
Here's Ronnie, all tall and proud even though he was molting and his tail was pretty much gone.
Here he is after Boris put him in his place. He hung out by himself over by this tree for weeks. Poor little fellow. We felt so sorry for him.
Here's Boris the Rooster. The new king of the yard.
Here I am with Ronnie, and The Fonze. Ronnie's looking cute here with his tail.