Last week we said a fond Goodbye to Major Johns. The poor gent had become very wobbly on his pins and was struggling to keep up with his harem. We tried the “He’ll either get better.... or worse” theory, and he got worse.
When wringing a cockerel’s neck it’s important to get it right first time, so we sought the help of a friend, Rob, who has a wide repertoire of techniques to deal with all types of fowl. Some involve broom handles and fan belts. In this case it was a straightforward snap.
The Major is succeeded by his son Johns Junior; a glossy green and russet teenager with custard yellow legs. His voice is just breaking into a crow and he is clumsy and impetuous with the girls... no doubt maturity will refine him.
Unexpectedly the Major re-visits us every morning as the dew dries on the flagstones, a shadow of his former self, but he still makes me smile.