Friday, 7 February 2014

Hospitalised by our pet cockerel

As I walked down our lane to meet my girls from the school bus the other day I was severely attacked by our cockerel. 

This is the cockerel who was lovingly hatched in the girls' playhouse last Summer, and started life as a gorgeous fluffy yellow chick who we all adored, and who has featured many times on my Instagram feed.

The attack was so crazed and vicious, I think the bird was intent on actually trying to kill me. He attacked me the entire length of our lane, while I flailed and kicked and screamed blue murder, desperately trying to protect myself.

In the struggle, I eventually slipped on some mud and fell back onto my left leg and hit the ground.  When I frantically tried to get up I realised the bottom half of my leg was swinging around, completely broken and disconnected from the top half of my leg and the cockerel was now angrily circling me as I lay helpless on the ground. 

At that very moment both my husband and my neighbour appeared on the scene, having heard my screams.  And the cockerel calmly clucked off as if nothing had happened, happily pecking at some snowdrops as he went, leaving me sitting in mud and chicken shit, in a mangled, traumatised, and excruciatingly painful mess. 

At that point the school bus arrived, Betty took in the somewhat tense scene and went over to the cockerel to make sure it was OK.

Next the ambulance arrived and the paramedics gave me reassurances, and held my hand, and cut my clothes and shoes off me. The very funny paramedic kindly pointed out that the shoes were cheap so it didn't really matter. 

I got through an entire cylinder of gas and air before they'd even got me into the ambulance. I went from wanting to be shot in the head to stop the pain, to cracking jokes about poultry and roast dinners. 

As we pulled away in the ambulance the cockerel saw us off with several chirpy cock-a-doodle-doos, and I sobbed and laughed and swore and then passed out. There was a lot of emotion in that ambulance as we whizzed through the Herefordshire countryside.

The only thing I remember when I arrived at the hospital is one of the porters making a joke about KFC, which made me laugh, and then cry. 

The next day I had a lengthy operation to straighten the leg and had metal pins inserted through my bones because it was so mashed up. 

I later asked the farmer who lives next door to us to put the cockerel through a very slow and painful death. He just texted to tell me that the deed has been done and that he tasted delicious. 

I am still in hospital and writing this post on my phone.  I'm learning how to use crutches, drinking lots of tea, and making the most of the morphine, but am missing my children terribly. 

I just hope they don't give me a hard time about ordering the execution of their beloved pet chicken...

14 comments:

Jeff said...

Sending you hugs xxx

Elsie Button said...

Cheers Jeff :) excited about a package that has apparently arrived.... Xxx

Elsie Button said...

Cheers Jeff :) excited about a package that has apparently arrived.... Xxx

Welshmumof3boys said...

Aw no :( how awful.sending huge hugs xx

Becky Willoughby said...

Oh my! You poor thing. Get well soon

Kelly Innes said...

Oh sweetie, how awful for you. I do hope that you get home to your family and your cockerel-free home soon. *eyes up her own Cockerel nervously* *Googles nearby farmers to put on speed dial for Emergency Chicken Dispatching*

Expat mum said...

Good grief that's terrible. I wonder what made it do that. Hope you're feeling better now.

Elsie Button said...

Thank you! Am still in hosp but hopefully home soon :) xx

Metropolitan Mum said...

Good Lord. Move back to the City, country living is dangerous!! Hope you'll be better soon. Dxx

Becky Goddard-Hill said...

Oh that is awful Poor you how terrifying

T said...

Wow, the mean streets of East London suddenly feel much safer (not many cockerels here). Seriously, hope you feel better, and get home soon. Must be horrible being away from Betty and Dolly. xxx

nappy valley girl said...

Oh my goodness, that sounds terrrible. I do hope the damage isn't lasting. xx

Sparx said...

Several months too late here, not sure if you'll read this... but I was attacked by a rooster once - a bantam who we'd also hatched. He beat the shit out of my welly boots, I was about 12. He hadn't had his wings clipped and he flew up and started to flap about my head at one point, cracked me a good one in the side of my head as I recall. I think my Mum got him off me with a broom in the end. We actually didn't eat him; he was our only cock and we needed him for future chicks. In fact a few weeks later I rescued him after he'd been completely hobbled by baling twine (probably tried to beat up a bale) and he let me lie him on his back and untangle him. An uneasy truce reigned after that. I liked him because he kept the geese in line.

Sparx said...

PS - I am also amazed at your fortitude and very sorry about your leg!!