Quote: He was tame as a kitten when he came here. He'd eat out my hand, and I could pick him up & carry him around if I chose to; no problem. He was a year old & from an environment where he wasn't top dog; in fact, he was 3rd in line behind 2 more dominant roosters who liked to gang up on him, and he'd never had a flock of hens all to himself, although he did have sons & daughters on the ground. All of a sudden, he was thrust into unfamiliar surroundings, with a bunch of hens he'd never seen, and a man who was, like the hens, a total stranger. I don't think a month in a quarantine coop with no run helped his disposition any. When he was finally turned in with the general population, it soon dawned on him that these ladies were all his, with no competition. He came into his own about that time, and kept a close eye on his girls. I got between him and one of his girls a couple of times, & he felt like they needed his protection, I guess, and rushed me from behind, hitting me in the back of a leg. I was so shocked that I couldn't react in time to teach him that such behavior was not to be tolerated....with animals, any punishment for unacceptable actions must be administered instantly, or it does nothing but make the animal afraid of you...he can no longer associate his mistake with the subsequent correction, due to the time span involved. the 2nd time he came at me, several days later, I saw him coming & gave him a short, unexpected, upside down flight with a boot toe. He behaved himself for a time after that, then finally came at me a 3rd time. I was bedding the birds down for the night, and one hen decided she wanted to roost in the doorway. When I nudged her into the coop, he came charging thru the door, obviously angry, and hit me in the chest. As he try to continue past me I nailed him in mid-flight, slamming him to the ground. Shortly before or after that little episode (I can't remember which), on the advice of his former owner, I caught him & carried him around upside down by the legs for a while, then tucked him under my arm, facing front, and carried him around like a football for a while, which resulted in him biting me four times in rapid sequence.
I decided I'd had enough of his crap & decided he had to go. I got the .22 & had him in the scope, ready to drop the hammer on him, when I thought about 6 hour drive I'd made to get him, and the reason I'd gotten him to begin with, ie., to replace the RSL rooster I'd had, in favor a breed that would give me darker eggs. If I did away with him, my plans for darker eggs would go down the drain. With those thoughts in my head, I couldn't bring myself to pull the trigger.
Since then, He's been no trouble, at least with me. DW still carries a stick when she has to be around him, but he's been a model citizen with me. We gave one another a wide birth for a while, but now he'll walk within a foot of me with no visible aggression. That's not to say that I don't keep an eye on him. He is, after all, a "herd sire", like a stallion or a bull, even though he's a chicken. He can, and has, drawn blood, but he's not going to trample or kill you. They can be the most docile, well behaved animal in the world, but if their hormones suddenly take over and they view you as a threat to their position in the herd or flock, things can go south in a heartbeat; they bear watching at all times & being alert, just in case.
Sorry for the long-winded reply to a relatively simple question, but you asked, & I got wound up, as usual
I thought it was just a letter to Mr. President
Hush, you
. For the rest.
