The grand old rooster has packed his plumage and relocated to a new home!
We didn’t get any advance notice, so we’re still not sure whether this is a permanent re-homing or just a temporary position as a hen-sitter.
Time – and the hens – will tell.
All we know is that he’s currently staying at Lerud – the luxurious cat hotel in Romedalen!
We’ve been there ourselves once, after Mum decided we’d behaved impeccably for almost three days – and therefore deserved a bit of pampering.
In hindsight, we strongly suspect it was more about her going off on a girls’ trip, and us not being invited...
But back to the matter at claw.
You see, the rooster at Lerud had flapped his final flap – straight to the sky, apparently.
He was well into retirement, and complaints had started piling in from the henhouse:
He apparently needed both an alarm clock and a walker, and his morning crow sounded more like a coughing fit than a cock-a-doodle-doo.
That he’d turned in for the night – quite literally – wasn’t a huge surprise. That’s at least what Mum told us, and we choose to believe her.
A henhouse without a head rooster? Unthinkable!
The spring-happy hens flapped around like they’d gotten feathers in their brains – clucking, flailing, and disturbing the poor feline guests trying to get their beauty sleep.
Worst off was the head hen, who had to round up the flock for their nightly nestling – it went so badly the egg production plummeted.
And without anyone to stamp the eggs, well... chaos!
We suspect the Lerud hens may have started a little OnlyHens business while unsupervised – and without a proper rooster to keep things in check.
The need for an experienced, no-nonsense rooster was obvious.
So an emergency hen-eral assembly – officially a “Cluck Summit” in those parts – was called at Lerud.
One candidate quickly rose to the top: Eggbert Eggum from LOmmedalen. A stately bird with firm feathers and a no-nonsense beak.
But then the rumors began to fly – quite literally, just before the vote.
Over at neighboring Berg-Sol farm, someone discovered a suspicious hole in the fence.
And in that hole? Feathers that bore an uncanny resemblance to Eggbert’s missing tail plumage.
To make things worse, hen Solbritt on that same farm had started staring dreamily into the sky with stars in her eyes.
It all reeked of... nest scandal. On multiple fronts.
So, in the Cluck Summit, Eggbert was unanimously disqualified – flaunting your feathers in someone else’s nest is simply not okay.
Suddenly, the flock found themselves hen-stranded.
No suitable rooster candidates.
And in pure desperation, Mum was contacted and asked whether our own honored Rooster could be borrowed.
A box, some feed, and a bag of grain were packed – and off to Lerud he went.
He is, of course, well-mannered, friendly with people, has claws that keep strange cats and nosy critters at bay – and most importantly: he loves his hens. Literally.
Word has it he’s thrown himself into the job beak and spur first – maybe a little too enthusiastically.
But who can blame him – a lot had piled up during the days of hen anarchy.
The Lerud hens were, to put it mildly, shocked when a completely foreign – and unapologetically confident – rooster strutted into their yard.
No one had so much as meowed a warning about the arrival of a bold new suitor – and one from Tigerwood Forest, no less!
Feathers flew, hens fluttered, and it was chaos everywhere when head hen Vibeke proudly introduced the new flock leader and opened the coop door.
Just seconds later, she emerged so covered in loose feathers that she looked like a Brahma hen at a carnival.
But Hanefar took it all in stride.
Adjusting to the new place, new home, and new hens was a breeze – and within hours he had full command of the coop.
He’s gotten a whole new burst of energy, and the boss at Lerud – Jan – has already dubbed him “Vippagra”.
Rumor has it he’s so eager that even mossy stepping stones and old slippers have been thoroughly inspected for signs of life – just in case.
The flowerbed’s been turned upside down, and the goldfish in the pond has been temporarily evacuated indoors...
Whether Hanefar will ever miss Tigerwood Forest remains highly doubtful – with his new flock, he’s definitely in his element.
Meanwhile, the hens back at Pippingham Palace have a new chief – TrønderÅge.
At least that’s his nickname – his crowing is so odd we suspect he’s from the district in Norway called Trøndelag.
So yes – a bit of new blood both at Lerud and here at home.
The clucking is cheerful in both places.
P.S.
We’re still waiting on photos from Lerud – but apparently, they have to go through feathered censorship first!
