The passing of a king
Merlin watching over the hens as they get a treat.
Merlin the day we got him in October 2011. He was only about a year old. Hadn’t crowed yet, according to his previous owner!
Merlin presiding over chicken family portraits in November 2012. This was the day I will never NEVER forget where he scared the livin’ #%*@ out of me! I was in a zen state snapping pictures when I suddenly noticed he had come up to check out my boot laces! I reeled back, still holding the shutter down (so yes, there are pictures of a blurry Merlin comb!) and fell into the compost heap, then did it all over again while yelling for help! It is hilarious now…
Today Merlin passed quietly. He was such a tremendous presence here adding drama and beauty to our lives. Whenever someone would come over we would show them Merlin and talk about how Gordon is his son, born on Ben’s 4th birthday. Sam noticed how odd it was that Merlin passed exactly 2 years after Gordon hatched – to the day! I guess he had decided that Gordon had apprenticed enough and was ready to step up as guardian.
The boys and I shed tears over the grand rooster as I scooped up his still-warm and limp body. It was the hug I had been wanting to give him for a long time. I could never turn my back on him or enter the run without my hoe. He never got used to the fact that I was friend, not foe!
I wish I could remember everything the boys said as we sadly buried him. They were very sweet, thinking about how Merlin was such a strong rooster. Sam noted that now “the girls might get some feathers back” and Ben said something about “If Merlin knows about God…” and I missed the rest. He is in his final dust bath under the maple tree. Rest in peace, big boy. We will sure miss you! Here are a couple of the things I already miss and it’s only been a few hours:
Hearing a big kerthunk as you hop off your roost at night to get a snack. I jump back every time!
Seeing you in your spot on the roost closest to the door so any predator has to cross by you first before getting to the girls. Your spot is open, like the missing man formation.
Hearing two crows and knowing if it was yours or Gordon’s.
Your chuckle as you point out a nice treat and never take a bite, saving it all for your girls. (OH – Sam put an earthworm in Merlin’s grave because he always gave them away – OMG I cried hard at that gesture it was so incredibly thoughtful.)
How you trained Gordon in the ways of roostering.
How I always called you “Mister Puffy” because I knew you didn’t like that nickname, referring to your soft rump feathers.
I’m sure I’ll add to this list, I’m just too sad right now to dwell on your passing.
Oh my, I’m reading this a month after the fact. And it still makes me cry. When I got the news by text messages on May 21, Richard and I were returning to KampKrug on the ferry. He was “shopping” at the snack bar, and I was crying at my seat at the table by the time he returned. So many memories we all have of BigBoy Merlin. Early on, there was even talk of giving him some other home, but no one could follow through. We learned to live with his temperament and tricks, while all along, we grew to love and appreciate him for who he was. Why do I think God has some marriage lessons in this as I reflect?
Also, while still on the ferry, and reading Alli’s text messages with Ben asking, I wonder if he knows about God, and Sam finding a worm to throw into the grave and his sweet comment about it (it’s for him because he gave them all away to the girls”) and sweet Alli’s little comment about “we’ll all get through this”, Richard started to say what both Alli and I were thinking, “IT’s A ROOSTER!”, we were all doing that crying/laughing thing that sometimes happens. Life is full!
OMG. Now it’s Dec 24 and I stumbled on this eulogy again. It’s like quicksand – if I dip my foot in it, it sucks me in the whole way. By the time I get to the worm Sam gave him, I’m a blithering idiot. And that’s when Alli just happened to call me. I had to explain myself . . . and then we both started laughing!