We’ve had an unexpected change in command in the chicken flock. As of a few days ago, Elvis is king.
Some of y’all may remember the story of Dee Dee’s victory over Elvis, in the days that followed Elvis’ introduction to the farm. I was convinced that Elvis wasn’t going to survive, even though I could find no serious external wounds. Later, after he recovered and returned to the flock yielding authority to Dee Dee, I came to believe that Elvis had just been suffering from shame and disappointment. It was a sad thing to behold.
A few days ago I noticed that both Dee Dee and Elvis looked a little beat up. I hadn’t seen them fighting, but it was obvious that they had been. And much to my surprise, it was Elvis who was strutting around in triumph and Dee Dee who was keeping his distance, with head hung.
I’m really surprised that Elvis decided to have another go at Dee Dee. Elvis is a big healthy bird, but he has the handsome feathered legs of a cochin, and doesn’t have nasty spurs like Dee Dee, a chocolate maran. Nevertheless, Elvis has vanquished his old foe, at least for now. As I once felt sorry for Elvis, I now kind of pity Dee Dee.
Meanwhile, our young rooster waits in the wings, perhaps biding his time.