Hahaha... well.... Sit back and listen to a story so strange even I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't lived through it.
During the first year I got chickens, I ordered some straight-run Polishes. As they aged, I could tell that two were male, one was female, and the last one? That was Lise. (It was pronounced like Lisa) For a while, I wasn't sure if Lise was male of female, but then one day as I was sitting in the coop, I saw Lise sitting in a corner. Then Lise proceeded to lay an egg right in front of me, and I assumed that settled the question. But it didn't.
A little under a month after that, Lise started crowing and developed male plumage. "She" was a gender-bender chicken. I started referring to Lise as "he," even though I thought Lise was a hermaphrodite. As much as I wanted to spend time with 'him,' Lise hated me with a vengeance. He would flare his hackles and kick me if I tried to pick him up. However, I was prepared to let bygones be bygones and let him live in peace without being handled.
Unfortunately, Lise's libido was rampant; he went above and beyond what the other cockerels were doing at that age. He, along with another cockerel named White Lightning proceeded to wreak havoc on the poor hens, and many of them ended up going bareback. It was ultimately decided to boot the two of them out of the coop and let them forage for themselves. Definitely not an ideal plan, but no one was willing to take them, and I had planned to try to reintegrate them in the winter. So Lise and White Lightning were left to fend for themselves.
Now here's where it gets odd...
Lise and W.L formed a pair bond. Even though W.L was fully male, and at this point, Lise looked and acted fully male, they still not only spent all their time together, they also mated with each other. Lise was always the dominant one in their little relationship, which struck me as strange. While the pair adapted well to life of the outside, Lise began to get violent to people. He'd wait until a person's back was turned, and then he'd rush up and kick them from behind. Once said person turned around, he promptly ran off as fast as his legs could take him, since he knew we had no reservations about giving him the boot.
It was bad enough when Lise was doing it, but then W.L started picking it up. The next spring, the family discussed getting rid of the odd pair once and for all. However, before any plans could be made, a predator killed Lise during the night. The very next day, we found W.L by the side of the road, apparently hit by a car.
That was the end of it; and while part of me still misses that not-quite-right bird, it's certainly much more peaceful around here.
