Heorth the Half-pint Home
In the Brooder
- May 19, 2021
- 5
- 24
- 29
Folks? This handsome devil is Bozo.
Bozo is a 15 week old bantam. He's all of maybe a pound. He's also a breed historically known to be gentle, sweet, great-for-kids, little darlings. I've raised this little fellow from 2 days old and wasn't planning on keeping him. Oh no. I wasn't planning on keeping any roosters, let alone a silly little nit in clown shoes. But as he aged he got cuter and more endearing. He'd hop up on the outdoor couch with me during treat time and just chill. I was greeted every morning by his tiny little crow, which always sounds a question moreso than a statement, and his attempt at his "look at me! I'm a sexy rooster!" dance. I was charmed, I was attached, I was going to cry if I had to process him and may give up eating chicken entirely if I had to make a meal of my little buddy.
No sooner had we (my housemates and I) made the decision that Bozo could stay? He became a Grade A butthead. This tiny murder pigeon is why I have bruises all over my legs, why my female housemate has cuts all over her shins, and why we need to warn anyone who comes on the property to avoid the rooster. No, not the Jersey Giant, Nikola is sweet as sugar and wouldn't harm a fly unless it went for his ladies. No. We have have to warn guests about this majestic little ankle biter.
Normally I'm a "biters go in the pot" kinda girl. But I also have a soft spot for monsters, which means I'm still attached to this fluffy little ball of hate and can't quite bring myself to even be angry at him for kickboxing my ankles. I mean, he's a horny teenager. Let they among us who had our hormones under control in puberty cast the first judgement.
However.
My little dude's spurs are going to start coming in soon and I need to sort out how to make him choose something *other* than violence every morning.
Bozo is a 15 week old bantam. He's all of maybe a pound. He's also a breed historically known to be gentle, sweet, great-for-kids, little darlings. I've raised this little fellow from 2 days old and wasn't planning on keeping him. Oh no. I wasn't planning on keeping any roosters, let alone a silly little nit in clown shoes. But as he aged he got cuter and more endearing. He'd hop up on the outdoor couch with me during treat time and just chill. I was greeted every morning by his tiny little crow, which always sounds a question moreso than a statement, and his attempt at his "look at me! I'm a sexy rooster!" dance. I was charmed, I was attached, I was going to cry if I had to process him and may give up eating chicken entirely if I had to make a meal of my little buddy.
No sooner had we (my housemates and I) made the decision that Bozo could stay? He became a Grade A butthead. This tiny murder pigeon is why I have bruises all over my legs, why my female housemate has cuts all over her shins, and why we need to warn anyone who comes on the property to avoid the rooster. No, not the Jersey Giant, Nikola is sweet as sugar and wouldn't harm a fly unless it went for his ladies. No. We have have to warn guests about this majestic little ankle biter.
Normally I'm a "biters go in the pot" kinda girl. But I also have a soft spot for monsters, which means I'm still attached to this fluffy little ball of hate and can't quite bring myself to even be angry at him for kickboxing my ankles. I mean, he's a horny teenager. Let they among us who had our hormones under control in puberty cast the first judgement.
However.
My little dude's spurs are going to start coming in soon and I need to sort out how to make him choose something *other* than violence every morning.