The three bantam roosters that have been loose in the run for the past month have been sleeping in the branches of the pecan tree. This is a problem because Hamilton (Black Breasted Red Old English Game) started up a habit of flying down to the outside the run every damn morning. Then he would mournfully stare into the run and pace in front of the fence until I came out to open the door and herd him inside. Burr (Black Japanese) and Laurens (Golden Sebright) had no trouble landing inside the run. Rachel and I had clipped their wings back on butchering day, but it wasn't enough.
I borrowed a couple of chainsaws from Sherry. Athena came over to be my safety buddy, though we still did stupid things like stand on a shaky stool to reach branches. We took down the lower ones that I had seen the roosters always fly to, and waited. That night, I went outside just in time to see Hamilton fly straight to what were now the lowest branches of the tree. Burr and Laurens followed shortly after.
So a couple days later, I screwed up my courage and climbed the tree to cut down both of the branches seen above. I have some fear of heights, though it's a reasonable one - it generally only hits me in situations in which there's a legitimate danger of falling.
This giant branch is still leaning against the tree. I cut all of its smaller branches off, but I need someone to help me hold it while I cut it into pieces, so it doesn't pinch the chainsaw.
So I felt pretty proud of myself, until sundown.
!@#$