The Tale of the Lonesome Ranger
by Barbara Buscemi, New Hampshire, USA
 Our guinea fowl, Ranger (or "The Lone Ranger" as we first called him), showed up here one afternoon while I was out shopping. Apparently, the guineas didn't take too kindly to his invasion into their territory. My son told me that our two males, Rex and Piper, had a few intense scuffles with the newcomer before going back into the safety of their coop - where no strangers were allowed. As the hens huddled together in the corner under the nesting boxes, Rex stood guard at the little bird door to make sure that his girls were protected from the crazy interloper. Undeterred, the uninvited guest made himself at home atop the pen fence in a position where he could gaze through the coop window and look down at the flock that he so obviously wanted to join.
As evening approached, the stranger disappeared into the woods. We assumed he headed back to the farm next door (about a quarter of a mile away) where we had seen a small flock of blue-colored guineas wandering about over the past year or so. We hadn't seen those guineas nor heard their calls in several weeks and wondered what could have happened to them. It seemed to me that this lonesome male was most likely the only survivor. Perhaps they had been allowed to roost in trees and only this one had managed to escape death at the paws or talons of a predator...or maybe the owners had been dining on roasted guinea fowl, and this lone bird knew what was in store for him if he remained on the farm. In any case, although it seemed he didn't want to be alone, he couldn't resist the instinctive urge to return to his usual roosting place.
The next morning brought in a nasty storm with high winds and torrential downpours - and one very soaked, drowned rat of a bird. The new fella once again stirred up our flock to a frenzy as he ran back and forth around the pen where they were enclosed and then flew up to the top of the pen fence and gazed down at them. It was a cold, autumn rain; and I felt sorry for him as he watched our flock parade into the warm, dry coop. After they had disappeared into the coop, he returned to the window to keep his eye on them. He spent most of the day around the coop and then vanished again into the shadowy woods as evening approached. I remember worrying if he would be safe traversing that dangerous section of woods where coyotes are commonly heard howling and yipping at night.
 My worries were eased the next morning when he yet again made the journey through the woods to spend time with his newfound fellow guineas. I decided that it would be best to take him back to the farm as I could see he was causing more trouble than I was willing to deal with. We cornered him in the pen and put him in a pet carrier for the ride back home. He seemed happy to be released near the barn where we had seen him foraging with the other blue guineas during the summer months.
We were alerted to his return on the following day when our guineas started squawking around mid morning. This was when I decided it was time to talk to the neighbors about their wayward bird. I packed him up once more into the pet carrier and drove down to the farm. I knocked on the door and was greeted by the farmer I'd seen tending the animals many times as I drove by. I asked him about his flock of guineas, and he told me, "Oh, they're around somewhere." I felt a little sad releasing the feisty guy knowing that there probably weren't any other guineas left to be "around." It seemed to me that the farmer didn't have a clue to the prospect that this bird was the only one left.
It was easy to decide to provide shelter for the persistent visitor when he reappeared a couple of days later. It was raining once more, and he looked so forlorn gazing into the coop through that window again. My husband screened off the corner of the coop beneath the nesting boxes for him, and Rex and Piper thought it very entertaining to peck at him through the chicken wire. He had fun pecking back.
We were concerned that Rex and Piper wouldn't accept another male into the flock, so we thought about what we should do with the newcomer. I called a local "animal farm," a public educational facility and petting zoo, to see if they would be interested in taking in the little blue guy. I was told by the manager that they did not have any guinea fowl but that they'd be willing to "throw him into the poultry yard" to see how he'd make out. What?? Throw him in with the roosters and other chickens? I knew that wouldn't work out without a proper introduction period. What else could we do? We decided to take the chance Ranger could be integrated into our own flock and, hopefully over time, would get along well with our two males.
After about a week, we released Ranger to join the flock and all went well as long as he kept his distance. He obediently took his place as the low male bird and was content to be allowed to follow the others around. Not long after, another section of the coop became available when our chicken rooster died, and Ranger moved into the larger quarters along with Bianca, the only guinea hen that had befriended him. I found it interesting that he never once returned to the farm after being allowed to free range, nor did he even try to head out in that direction. About a year later, when the distinctive sounds of guinea noises could be heard coming from the farm again, Ranger still chose to remain with the flock that had adopted him in his time of need.
He's been a joy to have around. He's a little more daring than the others, and he has a personality that's unique and rather comical. He challenges the other males regularly and keeps them on their toes. Piper and Ranger still peck through the wire at each other every day. They have never been injured doing that, but we did reinforce the section of wire where they "do battle" because of the fear that they might. Ranger has found a good home. I doubt he realizes how lucky he is to have survived his trips through the coyote-infested forest and to have avoided the same fate as was suffered by his previous flock, but we realize it...and we are so grateful for the opportunity to be entertained by this lovable free ranger - and to have him in our lives.
Since writing this story, we have lost both Rex and Piper due to health problems. Ranger is now "the man" of the flock, and he is loving every minute of it! Fate stepped in to give Ranger the position in the flock that he surely wanted to have all along. He guards his females with pride, and he's even been seen ramming into the side of a wild tom turkey that had attempted to graze on "his" lawn and get close to "his" females. He'll often chase the wild turkeys off of the back lawn and down the hill into the woods. He's still that comical character he's always been ever since that cold, rainy, and most memorable day when I first saw him.
|
