The Rooster Diaries

“I think we should get chickens,” Aaron said while cooking dinner on a drizzly April evening.

“I don’t want chickens. They’re dirty,” I replied.

Three roosters and two clutches later here we are with about a dozen ridiculous chicken stories. I have to say, I love our chickens. They are the easiest and most resourceful pet I have ever cared for. Their eggs are wonderful and our hens are free range and organic. They love to forage – I can’t stand the thought of chickens in cages producing eggs for big box grocery stores. They are easy to keep and everyone should have them!! The hens are sweet and curious and some just love being mammas. A broody hen will sit in a nest box for months on end just hoping for that egg to hatch. She will turn her clutch ever so delicately to even out each egg’s temperature and when she’s hungry she’ll leap out of the darkness into the sunshine squawking to the world that she is alive and well, but busy.

She’ll squawk as if to say, “I’m in a rush, so give me water, give me food, and piss off!” Minutes later, she’ll leap back in the nest box and nestle in for another long haul.

21 days later there will be chicks. They are the cutest little things. We’ve been lucky to have two wonderful mammas who hatched none of their own eggs, but adopted other hens’ eggs and raised the babes as their own. We had a hen raise two chickens that were twice her size in a matter of weeks. They hid behind her and followed her around just as if they were from her eggs.  And, yes, we had roosters to father these little chicks.

Ah, boys will be boys, right? Allow me to start by saying that roosters are an amazing animal. They are not stupid animals and most are wonderful protectors and find good food for their ladies. When the cat sat in the yard, any of our three roosters would hide the hens in the bushes. They would cluck when they found a tasty treat and would scream if two hens started bickering. A rooster’s crow has proven useful when our alarm didn’t go off in the early AM.  Our three boys, Merv, Nolberto and John Phelps, aka “Johnny”, proved to be very intelligent, but full of testosterone and misplaced aggression. They are an animal to be respected, however once they turn, it’s really hard to bring them back. Here are their stories. Let’s begin with Merv.

We had gotten our first pullets and wanted to try having a rooster with them because we wanted chicks raised by a hen. Merv the Perv came along with a black hen from the ranch where Willy, our horse, lives. The ranch owner pawned him off on us to save him from being cooked up by his burly sons. Merv looked like an 80’s hair band singer. He turned out to be big and flashy. He loved his hens and they loved him. For months we watched him in happiness and loved how he had become such a part of our family. We were proud of him. He was a great rooster. He not only protected the hens and found food for them, but he killed rats in the night and left them for us in the middle of the coop. He was the only rat killing rooster we ever had. However, as spring time rolled around and Merv turned 8 months, all these great accomplishments went to his head. I had noticed he would jump at my feet when my back was turned. Nothing serious though…until one sunny afternoon I called the chickens over to dig through a bunch of veggie cuttings from dinner the night before. I walked into the coop and Merv spurred me on the back of my thighs.

I turned around and kicked him. He ran at me again and I was cornered. This time he flew up and spurred me on my stomach. He flapped his wings and raised his hackles. I kicked him and swore at him. He ran at me again! I was worried about hurting him, but he was ruthless! I kicked him as hard as I could and he hit the side of the chicken coop. I threw the bucket of veggies at him and made my getaway across the yard. I looked behind me and he was running after me! I made it to the garage and literally slammed the door in his face. I was terrified. After a few weeks of being scared to death of going in my back yard, he attacked Aaron and then his time was up. The fact that he had viciously attacked me was not enough reason to take action, I guess…hmmmm…I guess there’s only room for one cock around here and it ain’t Merv!