Bryce Angell is a cowboy poet. Angell was raised on a farm/ranch in the St. Anthony, Idaho area with approximately 75 head of horses. Horses remain an important part of Angell’s life.
Angell shares his poetry with Cache Valley Daily every Friday.
Corey had too many crowing roosters in his flock. If he didn’t stop their crowing,
they would meet the chopping block.
So, he kindly asked us if we needed roosters on our place. I answered, “That
would be just fine, but can the roosters race?”
Our friend seemed taken back but said, “These roosters run dang fast!” I had to
wonder just how long these rooster’s lives would last.
We told him everyday at dawn, a mother fox comes out. We watch her dig for
rodents then she dives in with her snout.
And if I were a red fox, I’d eat the roosters without fail. The roosters gotta taste
much better than a rodent tail.
Our friend said, “These ole roosters fly, should even up the score.” But I figured if
we dumped ‘em home, they’d be fox meat for sure.
So, we brought two roosters home transported in a cardboard box. I swear the
roosters were much dumber than a sack of rocks.
‘Cuz they set about to crowing, all day long, while on their walks. But little did
they know their crow was calling in the fox.
I’d say it was around midday, we heard a rooster squawk. Then saw the feathers
flying. Left us standing there in shock.
We watched the sly old fox chomp down the rooster for her meal. The rooster’s
fate was given but it all seemed so surreal.
The second rooster took to flight. He was getting out of there. But the red fox
made a leap and caught the rooster in midair.
I must admit the fox’s swift and prime agility, came as no surprise but left me
breathless just to see.
We had witnessed Mother Nature. The fox would live another day. And it only
took a minute. We are roosterless, you’d say.