We have got to butcher chickens again this weekend. These boys are getting out of hand. We’ve got a gang of unruly teenage boys wreaking havoc in the farm yard, and it’s just got to end.
The awful crowing at starts at 4:30 a.m. and goes on throughout the day, picking up in earnest again around 5:00 p.m. Oy. We really need to get rid of the rest of the boys, figure out quickly how many and which ones to keep.
The two at the top of our list might not be the best choice, to be honest. But they are very, very pretty! This guy is just the sweetest little thing, to me, at least. He follows me around like a puppy. He keeps me company while I weed, eating the bugs that get dug up. He makes happy little cluck cluck noises, companionable and friendly. But his crow is awful, and he hasn’t made a girlfriend yet. Most of the roosters have a least one female, often two. There’s a gang of hooligans with none, and this guy is part of that group. His very best friend is the other one we like.
This guy is so pretty! Look at those blue feathers. Again, he’s really friendly. Has an awful crow! It hurts to hear him. He’ll get the hang of it eventually, right? By keeping him, we aren’t forcing ourselves to hear that screech forever, right? He’s a big bully with the girls, and is part of the ambush crew that hangs out by the coop and tries to rape a hen coming in for the night. Arg. I have to hang out there with a hose to give the girls any peace, and it just infuriates me. It also confuses the puppy. Why does Mommy suddenly turn into a whack job and start chasing chickens? He wants to play, and that would be bad. I don’t want to encourage chasing chickens, ever.
So we are rethinking our rooster keeping criteria. It’s really tricky, this farming business. How many should we keep? What should our criteria be? Egil, our original rooster, the one we brought home from Illinois, is picking up quite the harem out of this batch of girls. Despite all these studly young roosters around, some of the girls are preferring an older gentleman, which is good. His hens were starting to look very saddleworn. (He was down to three, after the broody mama got killed.)