I have 5 roosters. One year old Buff Orpington, Two Welsummer, One, Lavender Orpington also a year old and a little 11 week old brat who is the son of the Buff O rooster and Buff O hen.
Why am I addicted to these boys? Seriously. All but Red and little Red Jr. Aka Rocky (he was abandoned in the shell and I helped him hatch in the kitchen. Even helped him out of his shell) have so many infractions against them, so many foot ball carries, so many threats of being re-homed or at the worse, joining us for Sunday dinner and yet they are still around.
Don't get me wrong. I got rid of two roosters last year because they tried to kill the Welsummer roosters, but I tend to forgive the behind the back ankle attack from one of the Welsummers and the in your face lady attitude of the Lavender O. I've ran laps around the run, hot on the tail of one of the three recalcitrant musketeers, carried them around like footballs at the Superbowl. Carried them upside down longer than I care to admit all the while admonishing them with threats of giving them to the Amish and 'you know what they think about chickens!'
Okay, I admit, I love my hens, sweet, uncomplaining girls that they are, but those sassy, brassy, arrogant sometimes aggressive roosters just are my favorites. Maybe it is their attitude. I'm a natural redhead....used to be before mother nature decided that I had two choices, stay a redhead or go natural, so I went natural. Maybe I see a little of that redhead fire in them that reminds me of me.
I dunno. Maybe I just need to start a home for wayward bad boy roosters and admit defeat. They don't lay eggs, but they are always good for a chuckle or two during the day.