Derperella, the (weird) Faverolles, & Friends

I'm sorry about Trousers. So many of us are sad with you, because we know how hard it is to lose a loved chicken. Knowing and caring for each individual chicken with all their individual quirks and charm is what brings us such joy, and we certainly feel the loss when they die.

I hope your hens make you laugh today and lift you spirits a bit.

I thought of Trousers this morning when I stuck my hand in the layers of feathers on my my own Cochin rooster.
 
Derp thread lurker here. So sorry to hear about Trousers.
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Tears came to my eyes as I read. So sad to loose such a wonderful, beautiful, intelligent rooster. We'll all miss him.
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I am so sorry to hear about Trousers, three weeks ago we had to put our almost 13 year old papillon down because of a
malignant tumor of the spleen. Cancer is one of worst diseases, and I wish they had a cure avaible for all species and kinds of cancer. I hope Trousers will come back to you in his next life. And if I hope you find out what caused the tumor and the other hens are okay as well.
 
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Trousers

Trousers was a special sort of rooster. We had many names for him-- honestly, we rarely actually called him "Trousers". We called him Tibbles, which was a nonsense derivative of "wibbles", which is what I called the points on his comb (they wibbled!). So, to us, he was Tibbles, Mr. Tibbles, Tib, and Mr. Tibs.

He was a very special animal. If you have been around animals any length of time, take a moment and think of the sweetest one you have known. The one that had a special spark about it. For us, that was Tibbles.

He had a gentleness about him that I cannot describe. All chickens can be fussy things.. they have their spats and their hierarchy. They administer discipline to one another and there are high school levels of drama. Even my sweet hens get cranky sometimes and are unkind to one another. But not with Tibs. I don't think he had a mean atom in his entire body. He was patient and so gentle with us and the girls. He was very aware that he was bigger than they, and made great effort of where his feet went when they were all cuddled in around him, so that he never stepped on their toes. He never got fresh with them and if one of them was being particularly bad, he would (I swear it) give them a stern look and that was all it took. He never pecked, he never bumped or postured at them or us. He just tolerated anything.

All the girls loved him. There were great disputes about who "got to sleep next to the rooster" and who "got to stand next to the rooster" and battles over "who got to preen the rooster." He would ask!! them if they wished to mate, by slightly raising his feathers, and if they did not squat down for him he wouldn't attempt a thing. He watched over each of them carefully, and if he found a food treat he would make a great display of calling them over, and feeding it to them. He'd never eat it for himself.

He was uncanny in his deep thoughtful intelligence. He reserved his warnings for when there was real danger; the one time a hawk flew overhead he was the first to see it, and he gave a single trilling call. Immediately all of the hens ran to him, and under cover. I never witnessed them responding to either of my other past roosters this way. They seemed to trust Tibbles entirely.

He also seemed to listen to us, which was completely unexpected. When we first put him outside, we discovered that upon jumping down from his roost, he usually crashed into the water bowl because he was a massive bird. It would slosh water everywhere and it'd freeze in the bedding and make a mess for me to clean up. On the third day he did it, I looked at him and sternly told him, "Just wait for me to come get you down!". It was meant as a joke, of course... but strangely every day after that, I would open the coop up in the morning to find him there, on the roost, waiting for me. He'd even walk down to the end so that we could more easily lift him down. He would wait for us even if we were late. It is surely coincidence, but it felt very uncanny, nonetheless.
When I would tell him to do something, such as "get over there and look after Willow!", and I'd point... he'd always do just what I said. It was just very strange because I never trained him, and why would a rooster understand pointing? Maybe it was a series of coincidences, but it was very strange.
One other time that I can recall (though honestly he was always reacting to us in ways that made us feel as if he understood our words) is one morning, I took my phone with me out to the coop. I had been asked to record his crow, which I found to be difficult, as he rarely crowed! He actually had never crowed while I was outside with him, and usually only crowed if the girls needed something (such as they were out of food, or the water had been tipped over, etc). Well, that morning I looked at him and said, "you never crow, are you going to?" He just looked at me, and I laughed, and jokingly told him, "Well, crow!" And by golly, he DID! Three times. I was so surprised the first time that I didn't get it recorded, but I got the second two.

There was something really special about the big guy. His sweet and gentle personality. His deep, soulful eyes (much different than any other chicken I've met or had). His beautiful metallic green and black feathers, and his sunburst hackles. His droopy face that looked stern but inside was just a peaceful and loving dude. His thoughtfulness and care of both the hens and us, even though he had only known us a few short months. His willingness to let us do anything to him, and deep trust. His wonderful deep voice, and gentle vocals. He genuinely was more like the best behaved, sweetest and most gentle dog you've ever had... than a rooster.

Trousers, or Tibbles as we knew him, was only 10 months old. He was with us for only 5 months. Every minute of it was wonderful, Tibs. I wish this was more eloquent and I could just SHOW you how amazing this bird was, but I can only type and hope you understand.







Tibbles and my husband, the Fud Guy..
Though the other chickens will ask for treats in obnoxious ways (screaming, pecking our legs, jumping on us, etc), trousers just stood and looked at us hopefully. Like a polite dog.
You can see how big he was. The Fug Guy is 6' tall and trousers was taller than his knee.



His deep, soulful eyes. He would look at you slowly when you got very close, and would never flinch away. The Fud Guy and I used to say he trusted us so much he'd let us poke his eyeball. He just was okay with everything.


He would let the girls sit right on him, and never protest in the slightest. Here's Coho, who loved him along with the rest of the girls.


He was always very protective of the girls, and stood watch carefully when they were out. He would often forgo treats in favor of keeping a watchful eye for dangers.


It's hard to tell but he's thoughtfully listening to The Fud Guy talk to him, here.


It was very obvious to us that there was a lot of affection amongst him and the girls.


He was carefully listening to me when I asked him what he thought about my phone (camera).


He was always check on The Fud Guy and myself, to make sure we were okay, too.


The other hens pick on Willow a lot, and he seemed to pay careful attention to make sure she was always okay.


These are the looks he'd give us when we talked to him.


Just last Sunday, the ground was warm enough to thaw, and everyone had a giant dustbath in my new garden bed. Everyone wanted to be near Trousers.


This photo is not mine. One of the vet assistants took it at the clinic last Monday, just four days ago. It's the last photo I have of him. How healthy and wonderful he looks here! At the time I had no idea at all that it would be the last photo of him.



It's hard to believe that these two videos were taken less than a week ago. Last Sunday, actually. This is the rare day we had when everything melted for a while, and the soil dried out in my new garden bed. At least I hadn't planted anything yet. The pecking and scratching motions are how they get the soil very loose so that they can properly "bathe". They aren't eating it. Sometimes they will eat a few small stones though.


Here he is. Sweet Mr. Tibbles, only a week ago, so happy. Notice how careful he is with his feet and that he doesn't bump the girls around.
If I had only known, I would have filmed him for much longer.


We will miss him so, so much.
 
Thankyou for sharing him with us, i have tears in my eyes and an ache in my heart for you- do you know if the girls have laid any fertile eggs of his? just a thought.... he will be one to never be forgotten- hugs to all of you and his ladies
 
Thankyou for sharing him with us, i have tears in my eyes and an ache in my heart for you- do you know if the girls have laid any fertile eggs of his? just a thought.... he will be one to never be forgotten- hugs to all of you and his ladies

That thought DID cross my mind for a moment too. But I am too scared of a few things-- if my flock is carrying Marek's then what? Also I have no way to hatch and cannot give the eggs to anyone if there is a Marek's risk. I had put all the eggs in the fridge, as well (never thought he'd pass this week), though I know the hens can be viable up to, what.. 10 days after mating? Still. The risks all scare me too much. It will be at least 5 days before we know anything 100% on the Marek's test and it's been a week since he was active with the girls.
 

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