The Rooster's Watch: A Day in the Life of a Flock Guardian
Waiting for the Day to Begin
It’s still dark when I first wake, perched on the highest spot in the coop. I can hear the soft breathing of my hens around me, but I know the day is about to start. I stretch my wings and let out a powerful crow—my signal to the world that a new day is dawning. My human isn’t here yet, but I know she’s coming. The coop is locked, so I wait patiently for her to arrive and let us out.
Finally, I hear the familiar footsteps approaching, and soon, the coop door swings open. I’m the first out, hopping down eagerly. I’ve been waiting all night for this moment, and now I can lead my hens into the fresh morning air.
Sunrise and the Morning Call
Outside, the sky is painted with the first light of dawn. I take a deep breath, feeling the coolness of the morning. Another crow bursts from my chest, loud and clear. This is my territory, and I’m here to protect it. My call echoes across the yard, waking the world and gathering my flock.
Morning Patrol: Checking the Perimeter
With the day officially started, I begin my patrol. I strut around the yard, carefully inspecting every corner. My eyes are sharp, and my senses are tuned to any sign of danger. I check the fence, making sure there are no gaps where a predator could sneak in. It’s my job to ensure the safety of my hens, and I take it seriously.
Just as I’m finishing my rounds, I spot something moving near the edge of the yard. My feathers ruffle, and I let out a sharp alarm call. It’s a fox, sneaking along the fence line. My heart races, but I don’t back down. I gather the hens quickly, guiding them back toward the coop. I keep myself between them and the fox, ready to defend my flock if it comes any closer. Fortunately, my alarm and quick action are enough—the fox hesitates and then slinks away. My hens are safe.
Leading the Flock to Breakfast
With the threat gone, it’s time to find breakfast. I lead the hens to the best spots, where the grass is dewy, and the bugs are plentiful. They scatter, pecking happily at the ground, and I keep watch, making sure no one strays too far. If I find something particularly tasty, I make sure they know—clucking and tidbitting to call them over. I don’t eat until they’re satisfied; my job is to protect and provide for them first.
Midday: Interacting with My Human
As the sun climbs higher, my human comes back out to the yard. She brings us fresh feed and checks on our water. I know she’s a friend—she’s always gentle and kind, talking softly as she moves among us. I’ve learned to trust her. Sometimes, she even brings treats, like bits of fruit or a handful of grains, and I make sure to get close so I can get the best pieces for my hens.
She strokes my feathers, and I let her, standing still to show that I’m not afraid. I know she means no harm. We’ve built this understanding over time—she helps keep us safe and fed, and I protect the flock. It’s a partnership, and I respect her role in it.
Evening: Gathering the Flock
As the day fades and the shadows grow long, I know it’s time to gather everyone back to the coop. I make my rounds again, gently herding the hens towards the door. They follow me, one by one, back into the safety of our coop. I count them as they go in, making sure no one is left behind.
Once everyone is inside, I take my spot on the highest perch, close to the door. My human comes by one last time, securing the latch and making sure we’re all safe for the night. She always gives me a nod or a quiet word before she leaves, and I give a final low cluck in return, acknowledging her presence.
Nightfall: The Watch Begins
With the coop door closed and my flock settled in, the night watch begins. I might close my eyes, but I’m always alert, listening for any signs of trouble. I know that even though the day is over, my job isn’t done. I’m the guardian of this flock, and I’ll keep them safe until the morning light returns.
This is my life—a day filled with duty, vigilance, and care for my hens. I’m proud of the work I do, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
