We have dispatched the rooster. It was always a possibility–since we made the discovery after Christmas that he was a rooster. He was supposed to be a hen–but anyone can make a mistake. We keep chickens for the eggs. They are not pets. Roosters do not help in the eggs department.
The rooster was beautiful. A Barnevelder, a heritage breed. He had dark feathers, black to cinnamon, with an irridescent green cast. I marvelled at how exquisite he was. Rick was less taken with his appearance. We let it go, to observe whether our rooster might be good for the chickens. I’ve read that chickens are happier–and potentially more productive, with a rooster in the coop. And, we had one chicken who’d assumed the dominant position–and, we suspected, didn’t lay. We wanted to see if adding a rooster to the mix would change the hen dynamics.
But the rooster was a hefty food consumer. Unlike the chickens, he didn’t take his free range opportunities to forage. In the summer months, when the chickens spend a lot of time roaming, their feed consumption drops significantly. The rooster was unimpressed with free food.
And our egg production didn’t change. So the rooster wasn’t exactly carrying his weight. (It was interesting though, to see the female alpha get her comeuppance.) Rick would shake his head about that rooster, though. They are not pets.
It’s hard to tell if chickens are happier in one configuration over another. To me, the rooster seemed overbearing…even a bit neurotic. The chickens, who were older and had developed patterns before his arrival, seemed to endure and accommodate him. Still, to his frustration, they stuck with their old patterns. He had other ideas about how things should run, and they ignored him. The rooster spent his time corralling the chickens, and trying to keep them bunched together. This was not their way. I suppose he thought he was protecting them, in his preening and elegant sort of way. His energies–especially during free range times–were spent fussing over the chickens, and not foraging. For their part, the chickens were far more interested in foraging, than they were in the rooster.
Economically, the rooster was not pulling his weight, but that was not what led to his demise. Quite abruptly, the rooster developed a bad attitude. He began to harass the chickens. And then he began to threaten us. Rick does most of the chicken care, and he noticed it first. How could he not? That damn rooster started to attack him, every time he turned his back on it. He wanted to show me, so we headed out to the chicken yard (even though they were out, because they’ll always follow if they think treats are involved.) Rick took the lead and I was behind by a step or so. That damn rooster came up from behind and attacked me. Good looking only goes so far! The decision was made.
Beauty may be skin deep, but nasty goes all the way through.
Got some nice feathers, though. Might be good for a hat.
tworockchronicles 