Dudley Cock of the Walk

People who follow my blog all know about my cock eyed Rooster, Dudley. He came to live with us when his former owners' dogs tried to eat him sans dumplings. He showed up in the yard, tail feathers ripped out, one wing injured and just in a very sad way. Except for his voice, that is. His voice was as strong and vibrant as ever it had been. Mac very generously went to the feed store and bought cracked corn for bedraggled rooster, but he preferred to eat cat food with the cats. Yes, you read that correctly. Dudley (as in Dudley Doright) has a fan club of cats and and kittens. We haven't decided if he thinks he's a cat or they think they are roosters, but they get along together very well. The kittens will even cuddle up to him to sleep when Dudley calls his day done.


Dudley's tail feathers have grown in so thick and luscious in irridescent colors of green and purple that I feel sure he has a guardian angel in the late Mr Will Eddins. Mr Will raised some of the most beautiful roosters ever seen. And not for any reason other than the sure joy of their beauty. Our old boy never leaves the place, he's cock of the walk and sings all day long. He greets the sun before the sun even thinks about coming up, he hits the hay before Mr Sun says good night. I put out cat food twice a day and Dudley always races me to the food bowl, he and his favorite kitten, SuzieQ. Yes, he has a favorite kitten. The little black ball of fluff often gets her catnap next to Dudley out in the garden where he has scoouched out a warm nest of dirt. The cats are all very protective of their big odd brother. I've seen them gather around him, circling the wagons as it were, if they felt he might be in danger. I've never seen anything like it before, nor do I expect to see anything like it again. Sometimes I think God scatters little jokes amongst our lives to lighten us up. After all, I can't take anything to seriously as long as Dudley has his flock of cats.