[Downthestretch55]

The Tale of the Chicken Hawk

Long ago, in a tall white pine near the cluckers' coup came a chicken hawk.
More specifially, it was a goshawk. It was very fierce, very hungry.
I couldn't really blame him for sitting there, looking down on my tastey little pullets, and I certainly did my best to scare him away. I threw some rocks up at his high perch in that white pine, and he'd fly away for a little while, but he always came back.
I knew it would be a matter of time.
Sure, I knew that goshawks are "protected" raptors. My guess is that he did too. I just didn't want him to eat any of my little hens.
We actually got to know each other for a while. I named him Hally Burton.
He'd see me coming across the yard towards the coop and take off from the white pine before I could toss a rock in his direction.
That Hally Burton chicken hawk was one old smart bird.
Well, one day, while I was away at school, I guess ol' Hally couldn't stand it any longer. My dad told me that he watched the whole thing unfold.
He saw that rock dodger fly from his perch and go right through the open window of the little hen house. For sure he was waiting for the pullets to come inside to their nests, ready to pick one off for his dinner.
Anyway, my dad just walked over and closed the window. Hally guy was trapped.
Let me tell you, he tore up the inside of that place!
When I got off the school bus, my dad told me what was waiting and asked me what I wanted to do.
I just said that I'd like to let him go, but dad didn't expect that he'd be flying off too far, and the "problem" would come back to his perch.
So dad and I hashed it out for a while, and I finally did what I thought was the right thing. Yup, I just opened the door and hoped he would fly away and learn his lesson. Hoping he wouldn't come back...
As that chicken hawk came flapping out, dad reached for the rack in the rear window of his pickup, loaded a 12 guage shell, and dropped ol' Hally like a clay pigeon at the skeet range. "Problem" solved.
My dad has since passed on, so there's no use prosecuting him, and the goshawk won't be botherin' to any time soon.
Some lessons are harder learned than others, I guess.
RIP Hally Burton...and my dad, too. Thanks for teaching me about "enough is enough".