For the last 2 years of raising my poultry, it's been a roller-coaster every day. We started with 21 chicks, 14 being roos. When they were a few months old we re-homed 4 of the roos. I had a special place in my heart for all of them. They weren't mean, they were just too much. But the new owners had plenty of nice hens for them and they lived happily ever after.
In the weeks to come, 7 more roos were given to a neighbor because they were mean. Again I had my heart torn out because I knew they would be a dinner this time, and even though they were mean, they were still my babies and I didn't want to dis-own them. I tried to re-grow a tougher skin but I ended up crying in the end. They left and I knew they were slaughtered a week later, and apparently "Tasted great!"
Of the 3 remainders, everything was quiet for about a year. The next spring I hatched out two chicks on my own-for the first time. One was a roo, one was a hen. The roo became aggressive in time, and I couldn't deal with him just yet.
That winter, my favorite roo got sick. He ended up dying on me because I kept a feeding cup in his cage when he was in quarenteene (sp) and he got his head stuck and died there. This was the first chicken I ever lost in my care. I was devistated for weeks. I loved that little guy.
The mean roo that I hatched attacked my younger brother and went about two weeks later. By this time, I had been through so much, it didn't even scar me anymore. He left and went to the neighbor this time.
And then there were two. The origional two from that large flock almost 2 years ago. And you know what?
Everything is quieter than ever. Almost normal. Everyone is just a bit happier.
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So, okay, not a real moral here, though life can take you on incredible journies, even with just chickens. I was upset more often then I was happy with my birds. I still love them just the same. So my advice: go through with your plans and see what happens. I've learned that something will always come out and shock you anyway. Better beat fate to it.