This morning, waiting for our friends to come over for meditation, suddenly we heard a racket in the front yard. The older of our two roosters was standing out there, crowing his danger crow, alert and tall and alone. The hens were hidden in the foliage, except one hen who ran frantically to hide herself in response to his warning. I ran out, in my socks, onto the wet grass, as a small hawk flew right across my view to perch in front of me in our tall pine tree. Hence the rooster's crowing.
This is why we have roosters, we said to each other: to keep the hens safe. And this, just before the weekend when we had decided both roosters had to go . . . . They've ridden our hens so hard that several have no back feathers, and one has a bald head.
Pharmakon: that which cures but also kills; that which benefits but also harms. Kill the rooster and cure the hens; kill the rooster, and cure the hens only to have the hawk kill them. Practical ethics in the poultry yard.
