Posted: 4/5/06
Gypsy King arrives in Minnesota
A genuine rooster tale
 John Heine holds two of the newest arrivals on his rural Harris farm - Gypsy King and a one-week-old goat named Tabby. |
By MaryHelen Swanson
Cute stories about dogs and cats are a dime a dozen, but a rooster, now thatís a tale of different color.
Gypsy King arrived in the mail at the Rush City Post Office last Friday, March 31. One day later and it might have made for a good April Foolís joke. But itís no joke, the friendly fowl with the boisterous crow and brilliant plumage has come to make his home in rural Harris.
He gave the folks at the PO a good chuckle with his crowing and clucking, his new owner said.
He was a day late in arriving, and a bit hungry, but otherwise doing fine.
By Saturday, Gypsy King had staked out his claim in a garage on the 10-acre hobby farm of John and Rita Heine.
But, letís start at the beginning.
The story behind the tale
On the warm and sunny island of Key West, Fla., where people go to brown their skin and enjoy a bit of leisure, chickens run at will.
Itís called ìfree range,î going back to initial settlers, as many believe. The actual chicken story is a long and mildly humorous tale.
In a nutshell, the chickens run loose, a chicken catcher tries to catch them and kind-hearted souls rescue them from the axe of the chicken catcher.
So it was with our Gypsy. There lives, on this island paradise, one woman who makes it her quest to rescue the ìwantedî fowls and makes every attempt to find homes for them.
Enters Alice Fasig and her family. It was while vacationing on Key West that the family discovered the chicken rescuer and decided to adopt one of her young birds.
Life was good for the bird and his new family, living in Fort Myers, Fla., until shortly after Hurricane Charlie hit. (By the way, the bird, an assortment of other critters and the family all survived the hurricane by huddling in a bathroom)
Came the day of awakening. What was assumed to be a hen, suddenly crowed. Gypsy King was a rooster.
And roosters crow, and crow and crow. Sometimes for no apparent reason other than to hear themselves crow, it seems.
Anyway, in Fort Myers, by city ordinance, hens are allowed as livestock, roosters, on the other hand, are not.
So when a neighbor complained, it was time to find a new home for the feisty little red bird with the healthy vocal chords.
This was not an easy thing to do. For one thing, by this time Aliceís daughter had grown fond of the little rooster. He was friendly and loved to be cuddled.
Secondly, it wasnít going to be easy to find a home for a rooster when roosters were not welcome in the neighborhood.
Alice called her sister Rita Heine here in Minnesota with their dilemma.
Would you take the rooster, she asked?
Not appreciating the idea of the bold little bird becoming Sunday dinner, the answer was ìyes.î A special shipping box had to be purchased, and postage in the amount of $36, and change, paid and the chicken was in the mail.
And then the wait.
Rita, who is the office manager at First Lutheran Church in Rush City, kept the Post Review apprised of the travel schedule.
When no word came on Thursday, the Post Review staff became slightly concerned that the trip was not successful.
Then Friday the e-mail popped up saying, ìThe migrating chicken arrived this morning in the mail.î
The bird, one of the ìgypsyî chickens from the Keys, acquired his full name from his many travel adventures, beginning at Big Pine Key, going to Key West, then to Fort Myers and now to Harris, Minnesota.
It is here that his new family plans to let him live out the rest of his natural life.
And since heís only going on two (April 26, says Alice) that could be a nice long time.
Gypsy is a plucky little bird, a descendent of fighting game cocks and a small little Cuban chicken.
He might miss the island where there is an annual festival on honor of the free-range chickens, but maybe not.
Alice Fasig told the Post Review that while they were in Key West they never saw a cockroach. But there were chickens running around. In Charleston, S.C., she said, where there are no free-roaming chicken, there are roaches.
Conclude what you will about that information, but it appears the rugged little birds take care of things on the island.
Here in Minnesota there could be things to take care of too, for the King has, not more than a stoneís throw from his new garage home in Harris, a harem of 26 lady Leghorns waiting for his attention.
And by the sounds of the crowing coming from inside the building, heís thinking about it ... a lot.
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