I was reading this hilarious post at Ruffled Feathers and Spilled Milk earlier today (yes, if you’re not a farmer, it really is just like that!) and thinking about how much I hate our rooster…this rooster…
Mr. Fix-It built me a beautiful chicken house with a private little chicken yard for Christmas last year (2008). But from time to time we’ve found it necessary to let the chickens out of the house for various experimental reasons. Like…if they dig out of the chicken house, how many days will it take them to go back in through the original hole? (Short answer, NEVER.) Or how many hours can you waste trying to figure out how to reach the eggs they laid under the porch? (Results seem completely subjective based on gender, day of the week, and how many kids are whining for dinner.)
Regardless of the above, I would be more than glad to let our hens peck around the yard and carry them back to the house every night so they didn’t roost on my porch rail and leave piles of…valuable nitrogen-based fertilizer…behind them. Except for…him…
He is beautiful.
He is mean.
He feels no compunction about attacking the hand that feeds him. Or the legs that brought that hand to feed him. Or the under 3 ft tag-alongs of the hand that feeds him. Or the heavy rubber feed bucket that the hand is hurdling at his head.
They start out so cute and innocent…
But by the time they reach the top of the flock pecking order there’s no reasoning with them. I’ve heard various theories on this. Handle them every day from the time they hatch…Show them who’s boss the first time…Get a different breed. Well, we’ve had chickens for five years now and several roosters and the best method we’ve found is to keep them in the chicken yard or give them away while they’re little and cute to someone that has more time. I don’t have time to handle them every day like pets or to watch over my shoulder every time I’m outside–did you know that roosters are master tacticians that love to bushwhack you from underneath farm equipment after you walk by? They are well aware that you are bigger than they are–they just see it as more of a challenge.
The chickens were out again today. Mr. Fix-It took pity on them due to the little river running through the chicken house and yard from the last four days of rain. I told the kids to just keep their eyes open and leave the chickens alone when we got to the house. Our little guy was nervous–he was the last one chased by the Rooster. These were the Ladybug’s words of wisdom on the ride home…
“You gotta give him a mean look. Don’t look scared, look mean. And kick him until he goes away. Or throw rocks at him. Just keep throwing rocks at him. And look mean. You gotta look really mean. Don’t worry, Mama will kick him across the driveway when she gets there.”
She knows me well. This is my favorite view of the Rooster…
And it makes my life easier.
