Well old Bill Shakespeare might have thought names weren’t important, a rose would smell as sweet and all that but I strongly disagree. Take me for instance, my name is Astley – it’s not difficult to say or spell. The variations on pronunciation and spelling over the years have been amazing. I don’t like being called Ashley – it’s not my name so why call me that? I don’t mind people getting it wrong now and again, but I will correct them if they continually get it wrong. There was one person in the village who for eight years insisted on calling me Ashley. So one day I called them by a slightly different name, boy did they pounce on my deliberate mistake, boy did it give me great pleasure to point out YET again “I am Astley not Ashley please get it right“. Problem solved… I still get a greeting but it is“Morning my dear”now! There are a couple of lovely old boys who have never even tried to say my name, but christened me Mrs Tabor Hill instead.
But less of me and onto Nelson… who, I hear you say? Well, he’s the cockerel. We don’t name the chickens – there are too many – but the boys do get a name. The last one – Colonel Sherman T Potter – was a Colonel in both stature and manners. When he went off to the big coop in the sky, Best Mate (Head of Poultry) bought a new boy and decided to keep with the military theme and Nelson was named.
The trouble is he doesn’t live up to his name sake. Now poultry are not known for their intelligence I will give you that, but this boy is totally and utterly stupid. If he had been sent to attack the Armada he wouldn’t have even found the ship let alone sailed it. Some days he can’t find his way out of the coop. You can watch him run up and down the fence for hour after hour trying to find the gate. Once out, he spends his time running from one yard to the other, then dashing back again. He chases the quad bike, he chases delivery vans, he hates and chases pheasants, he will dash off up the farm track at full pelt stop and dash back. In fact he just runs and runs. So Head of Poultry has given in and decided we can’t insult Lord Nelson’s good name any longer. We’ve re-named him Forrest Gump instead.