That will have to wait.
Today, we got back from a lovely day by the river (about 45 minutes from our house), only to find Solomon dead. He'd been the King of Cluckingham Palace since a month before Rory was born. Understandably, I'm sad.
If only the eggs had hatched, he could have produced an heir. And we're finally in the process of building a new chook house. What cruel timing.
He had a good life. I like giving roosters the chance of a good life.
|Enjoying a dustbath with his wives. January 2015|