He took on humans, horses, cockatoos, jack russels, wolfhounds, foxes and embarrasingly, once, a large moth who threatened his babies.
He also sat on his chicks when mother hen had had a gutful.
And he unselfishly called his harem to him whenever he found a tasty morsel.
In other words, he was an outstanding rooster.
He had one last day free-ranging in the Winter sun last weekend, which he enjoyed quietly even in his diminished and drunken state, and he died quietly in the night surrounded by his family, including his successor.
Blinky was father to many of the bantams in the area, and grandfather to even more. He was, in a word, prolific.
As all good roosters should be.
May he remain in our family memories always.
And may he remain where I buried him always, too.