I have tried to protect Cooper from the cold Michigan winter, I really have! Several times I have scooped him up and cradled him in my arms as I smear sticky Vaseline on the tips of his comb and wattles. He bends his neck away sideways, keeping his head level while he eyes me warily but he never pecks or squawks at me. I murmur sweet cooing nothings to him and stroke his feathers with the non-sticky parts of my free hand. Then I gently set him back on the ground and he walks away with no alarm or indignation at having been handled.
I don’t know what happens to the blackened frostbit tips of his comb. The spots either fade away or die and drop off because some days later I no longer see them. He still has that charming pointed comb afterwards, so perhaps the tips grow back as they were before. I’ll have to keep observing this winter and see if I can figure it out.