animal kingdom / babyhood / DAILY FARM LIFE

Maybe I should call her Catherine

rooster trouble

We have a rooster problem.

It's nothing new around here. I've chronicled our rooster troubles many times. There was Hedgie, the original rooster at Thomas Run, who helped me overcome some childhood fears and bad blood that already existed between me and the rooster-kind. He was my favorite. But we lost him on the night we lost almost everyone. 

Then, there was Roosevelt. It took two posts to write about Roosevelt, who was last seen waddling up the center line of Thomas Run, headed for the hills (or the heavens). 

But now, there's a new problem. This Spring when I purchased half a dozen chicks from the feed mill, that were supposed to all be hens, it turned out that two of those six were not. And so we now have two large Rhode Island Red roosters courting the ladies and fighting for their affections. 

Unfortunately, these roosters are a little too full of themselves. One of them has a strong dislike for one of my favorite hens and has her quarantined to the far side of the farm. If she dares cross the stream with the rest of the hens, he attacks. 

DSC_0049

Though that alone is enough for removal from Thomas Run, it is the latest offense that is even more inexcusable. 

The roosters have set their sites on Birdy.

The first time it happened the scene was pretty confusing. There was some commotion. Birdy was on the ground crying. The rooster was near but I didn't put it all together.

The second time, I was standing right there–as he came up behind her, head bowed, feathers splayed, doing his little dance.  He jumped up, pecking her on the back of the head and knocking her onto the ground. I was too far away to do anything but shout. And it didn't deter him.

DSC_0090

He must think she's one of his hens.

And yesterday, he did it again. 

The funny thing is, I don't think Birdy has any idea who or what is randomly coming up behind her and knocking her to the ground. She still happily wanders around behind the chickens, hands outstretched, calling them kitty. (We're working on it. Kitty. Chicky. She'll get there eventually.)

It makes time outside a little nerve-wracking. Always on the watch for the courting rooster who has a crush on Birdy.  Maybe I should start referring to her as Catherine around the hens, to keep the confusion to a minimum. 

But, alas, I sent my husband another one of those emails yesterday:

The roosters must go

rooster trouble

We have a rooster problem.

It's nothing new around here. I've chronicled our rooster troubles many times. There was Hedgie, the original rooster at Thomas Run, who helped me overcome some childhood fears and bad blood that already existed between me and the rooster-kind. He was my favorite. But we lost him on the night we lost almost everyone. 

Then, there was Roosevelt. It took two posts to write about Roosevelt, who was last seen waddling up the center line of Thomas Run, headed for the hills (or the heavens). 

But now, there's a new problem. This Spring when I purchased half a dozen chicks from the feed mill, that were supposed to all be hens, it turned out that two of those six were not. And so we now have two large Rhode Island Red roosters courting the ladies and fighting for their affections. 

Unfortunately, these roosters are a little too full of themselves. One of them has a strong dislike for one of my favorite hens and has her quarantined to the far side of the farm. If she dares cross the stream with the rest of the hens, he attacks. 

DSC_0049

Though that alone is enough for removal from Thomas Run, it is the latest offense that is even more inexcusable. 

The roosters have set their sites on Birdy.

The first time it happened the scene was pretty confusing. There was some commotion. Birdy was on the ground crying. The rooster was near but I didn't put it all together.

The second time, I was standing right there–as he came up behind her, head bowed, feathers splayed, doing his little dance.  He jumped up, pecking her on the back of the head and knocking her onto the ground. I was too far away to do anything but shout. And it didn't deter him.

DSC_0090

He must think she's one of his hens.

And yesterday, he did it again. 

The funny thing is, I don't think Birdy has any idea who or what is randomly coming up behind her and knocking her to the ground. She still happily wanders around behind the chickens, hands outstretched, calling them kitty. (We're working on it. Kitty. Chicky. She'll get there eventually.)

It makes time outside a little nerve-wracking. Always on the watch for the courting rooster who has a crush on Birdy.  Maybe I should start referring to her as Catherine around the hens, to keep the confusion to a minimum. 

But, alas, I sent my husband another one of those emails yesterday:

The roosters must go

18 comments on “Maybe I should call her Catherine”

  1. Oh those dang roosters! We have had to dispose of mean roosters and goats on our farm, some “graduated” to the table and some onto a farm without children. Right now we have a very sweet rooster, and have found that all roosters of the breed we have right now are nice. Sorry I do not know the name of it. Maybe he is not mean, just not real bright, since he mistakes her for a hen. I pray Birdy has no mean rooster memories many years from now.

  2. Oh, man. I know that scene all too well. Unfortunately this summer the 5 year-old learned that it was the rooster that got her and now she’s afraid to go out when they’re out. ANy of them. So, the boy has to go. It’s always been the rhode island red roosters that have gotten sassy on us. Goobers.

  3. Poor Birdy. I knew there was a reason I don’t like roosters. Cricket still confuses hens & roosters, and she likes to crow at them “Ticka-ticka-too!” Cockadoodledoo, tickatickatoo. She’ll get there evenually. 🙂

  4. We have a rooster like that. We knew it was a problem when the children joined forces and asked that Henry be turned into chicken nuggets. He’ll be leaving us come November.

  5. Sounds like time to make some (male) chicken soup. Or fried chicken. Maybe broasted chicken. If you cook one on the bbq, maybe that will serve as a warning to the other.

  6. rhodie roosters are bad. Your husband is right. someone’s got to shoot those buggars! My 10 yr old still has a fright from a rhodie that pecked her shin (and she swears there’s still a scar!)

    One rooster is enough. we’ve learned the hard way…we got a straight run the first year! WE had waaaay too many roosters!

  7. Our rule with roosters is that anything is tolerated except child attacks. Those roosters are kindly taken for a “walk” across the creek. I carry them gently but upside down and leave them on the far side to live in the “wild.”

  8. As we hatched out a batch of Silkie chicks this spring, then our Silkie hens hatched out a batch of chicks…we are overrun with soft fluffy roo’s at present. It’s only a matter of time before they start doing their roo-thang and have to be taken for a “walk”.Gah! The plight of a Farmchick.

  9. You shouldn’t leave roosters in the wild! That will only attract predators and is very cruel! Just break their necks or shoot them. It’s better that way! If you don’t want to do it, find a neighbor or someone who will…or don’t buy roosters!

  10. This is ironic timing because I’m having the same problem with my rooster. So far he’s only attacking me but I have a four year-old and a one year-old as well and I can’t trust him around them anymore.

    I’ve read that we can train roosters to back down (apparently he thinks I’m a rooster and I need to establish myself as the alpha um… ok?) but I don’t know if I have the time for that as I do have the four year-old and one year-old…

    I’m sure he’ll be delicious though.

  11. Yes, I agree! My husband will end up “dealing” with the rooster, but we definitely won’t just let him go in the wild for fear he’ll draw in all kinds of predators. We don’t want to advertise our chicken drive-thru! 🙂

  12. Stinkin’ rooster! Our rule with roosters is that anything is tolerated except child attacks. Those roosters are kindly taken for a “walk” across the creek. I carry them gently but upside down and leave them on the far side to live in the “wild.”

  13. It’s nothing new around here. I’ve chronicled our rooster troubles many times. There was Hedgie, the original rooster at Thomas Run, who helped me overcome some childhood fears and bad blood that already existed between me and the rooster-kind. He was my favorite. But we lost him on the night we lost almost everyone.

    Then, there was Roosevelt. It took two posts to write about Roosevelt, who was last seen waddling up the center line of Thomas Run, headed for the hills (or the heavens).

    But now, there’s a new problem. This Spring when I purchased half a dozen chicks from the feed mill, that were supposed to all be hens, it turned out that two of those six were not. And so we now have two large Rhode Island Red roosters courting the ladies and fighting for their affections.

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