The story of the problem peacock!

I wish I had more pictures for this but the funniest one I didn't witness in any way. The problem began simply enough, our young birds grew up! One of the two became very opinionated about EVERYTHING. How would we know that you ask?

He commented on all comings and goings. He would follow me closely, too closely, as I made my rounds of chores and bringing him his food. The bully wouldn't allow the other peacock to get into the Great Big Barn to get out of the weather. He chased my husband endlessly if he was on the mower or the tractor. The newest accessory for the tractor was a broom to swing at the crazy bird when he leapt at it or the driver. Other times he would wait for my husband from the roof of the chicken house or the barn rafters, biding his time for the optimal opening to attack.

My poor father-in-law was also the object of his attention. When he would pull toward the barn the bird would be front and center to take on the newest threat to his dominion. It was so bad on one particular day, the garbage can lid and an umbrella were the tools of choice to keep the pesky peacock at bay long enough for him to get back to his car. Wish I had a picture of that!

We resolved to find a way to be free of the menace this bird had become. Our options were to do him in (which could happen at any time with all the attacking he had started) or find a home for him.

How to solve a problem like this? Start asking everyone you know if they want a lovely, though thoroughly unpleasant peacock. It took a surprisingly short while before a taker was found. But what now, how do we catch the big guy?

Leave it to a group of bored, young twenty-something guys, that's how. Standing around after their rousing game of corn-hole and not quite ready to call it a night, Mike decided to catch a peacock. The chase was on. Up into the rafters of the barn went the bird, uh-oh, so did Mike, in his sandals and all. Move on to the platform and around to the other side, the bird was being followed and didn't like it one bit. The bird decided to make a run, er, fly for it. He aimed himself for the big door and the remaing guys dove out of the way and he was out. What about Mike? He's a pro at moving around in an old barn having spent his childhood with a very similar one. Down came Mike in hot pursuit, around the shop a couple times and the bird was cornered in the shed. He hardly resisted at all when Mike picked him up and we all declared Mike the winner!

In reality, we were all the winners because the peacock's new owner came and took him to his new digs, complete with peahens. Thanks Mike, love the new quiet country life again. Our remaining bird seems to be adjusting well and so far has not become the radical his cohort was, thank goodness. Who knows, would a peahen be good company?