He was more than a chicken.
He was the cock of the walk.
Originally a Mother’s Day gift from Hubby, my pet rooster, Little Jerry Seinfeld, won my heart every morning when he crowed what I called, “the best traditional rooster crow.”
He died of natural causes Monday in the Terry chicken coop, surrounded by 14 loving hens.
Hubby discovered our loss when he went to gather eggs Monday morning.
I was terribly upset.
I named Jerry after a favorite episode of my favorite TV show, “Seinfeld,” where Kramer announces he bought what he thinks is a chicken (that he named Little Jerry Seinfeld) for its eggs, but he later discovers it’s a rooster. That explains the poor egg production, he says.
Soon after Hubby gave me Little Jerry, I found out he was born with a special talent — a beautiful and frequent crow.
Faithful readers will recall Little Jerry was the 2007 champion crower at the Ashtabula County Fair.
He placed second at the Great Geauga County Fair in 2007, and second- and third-place respectively at the Ashtabula County Fair in 2008 and 2009.
I will miss Little Jerry. Not everyone owns a pet rooster, after all.
He ran free on the Terry farm with the dogs and cats. They were buddies.
Well, at least Darwin, our one-eyed Jack Russell Terrier thought they were friends. Little Jerry could only take so much of Darwin. When Darwin played a little too rough, Jerry would put him in his place.
When Little Jerry’s obituary appeared on Facebook, people from all over the world began sending condolences.
My friend Andy from the Middle East joked, “Will there be a burial or a barbecue?”
Haha! We would NEVER eat Jerry! Or any of the “girls” for that matter.
My sister joked about the hens wearing black veils and clucking, “Amazing Grace.” Then she started in with her chicken imitations.
When I told my newsroom friends Little Jerry died, Sis was right beside me and began clucking, “Taps.”
(Remember, she’s an actress — a woman of many talents, who frequently appears in shows at the Ashtabula Arts Center).
Some folks took our loss seriously.
Upon hearing the news of Jerry’s passing, WKYC weatherman Mark Nolan, who serves as master of ceremonies at the Geauga County Fair’s crowing contest, sent me an e-mail: “Jerry was a great source of comedy that day and quite a winner in the arena.”
Most painfully, Delightful Granddaughter cried a river.
She also enjoyed taking Little Jerry to the fair, coaxing him to crow and winning a whole $2 or $3 in prize money.
What fun we had!
Little Jerry also was good-natured with people, something a lot of roosters cannot crow about.
He was a brave rooster, too. He fought a vicious raccoon more than once to protect his hens, but he never hurt us or Delightful Granddaughter.
“He really liked to crow,” she said through her tears.
Hubby said, “For that reason, the neighbors are probably glad he’s gone.”
Our only rooster now is Little Jerry Jr., Jerry’s beautiful, golden-feathered son.
We hope Junior will step up and take over his father’s business in the coop and at the fair.
Hubby says he’ll do fine in the coop, as for the rooster crowing contest at the fair, he’s not so sure.
Last year, when Junior accompanied his father to the contest, he didn’t make a peep.
Delightful Granddaughter is going to be awfully disappointed if he doesn’t crow. I don’t know what we’ll do ... You know Grandmaw isn’t happy when her only grandchild isn’t happy . . .
I’ll keep you posted.
Let’s hope staff writer Shelley Terry is done crowing about Little Jerry.
