A rooster remembered

Spike was a white Bantam rooster with golden feathers. He came to live with us when he was just three days old and my son Evan was going into second grade.

Spike was a member of our family. He slept in a little cardboard box next to Evan’s bed. As he grew his personality became clear. He ruled the roost.

We understood his sounds, his “alert” when a bird dared fly over his “air space,” his soft voice when being held and his “warning call” which he would use only if he heard a loud sound in our area.

Spike was raised at my pre-school in Hanalei. He was with children daily. People were amazed at how tame he was. He even knew his name. He became part of our daily program at school joining our class at snack time, lunch time, even going on field trips. We discovered that Spike loved to pick crayons out of a basket and I would color with them. The result was “Spike Art” which we proudly displayed in our school room.

When he would do his “warning call” I would ask one of the children at school to go “talk to Spike.’ They would quickly go outside and we could hear a little voice say, “It’s Okay Spikey.” He would quiet down right away.

Our family took Spike to the beach, park and in the car. Luckily he never knew I called him “My Chihuahua.”

Spike the Rooster was cared for, taken to our vet and loved. When he died he was 12 years-old. I sat my class down to tell them what happened.

“Listen carefully. I have something to tell you and it is a little bit sad. Spike the Rooster died. He got very sick and he was very old so he died.”

We all walked out to see where he had been buried. I asked the class to say what they remembered about our little friend. They said lots of sweet things but one little girl kept quietly saying, “I have something to say. I have something to say.”

“What is it,” I asked.

She said, “It’s Okay Spikey.”