This is a hard one. Roopecca. My accidental, human aggressive, pigeon toed, bra wearing, gorgeous Lavender Orpington boy.
I didn’t want males. I started with 4 pullets, 2 Buff Orpingtons and 2 Lavender Orpingtons. One LO looked a bit bigger than the others and, sure enough, crowed one day. Traded him for 2 pullets. Several weeks later my favorite pullet Repecca, the remaining LO, stood tall and crowed. Nothing to do with him now but to rename him Roopecca and continue to love him.
He walked funny and never roosted due to pigeon toes. He had 2 back to back bouts of sour crop ending in wearing a bra. As he matured he decided I wasn’t a chicken and started attacking me...and hubby. Yeah, I should have culled his nasty self. But I had fallen completely and unconditionally in love with him. So he was given his own bachelor pad.
At one point I almost rehomed him but found I couldn’t do it. Instead I built him a bigger, roomier run. This run made it easier to care for him. Hubby and I were able to handle him easier and started a toenail clipping schedule once a week for his overgrown nails. He was looking happier and, as his molt was coming to an end, healthier.
Saturday night he was in the run watching through the chicken wire separation as the ladies enjoyed a before-bed-snack. He would make sure they got theirs before he enjoyed his. Later he was in his pop doorway, as was normal, monitoring the girls going into their coop for bed. As usual hubby had to “encourage” him to back up and go inside, closed the pop door and locked all the gates.
Sunday morning the pop door was opened by hubby and, as usual, Roopecca remained inside for a bit. 11am he hadn’t come out. Hubby found him lying in his spot like he was sleeping. Feet tucked underneath, wings against body, head tucked in. No sign of struggle, injury, or choking. Empty crop. He was gone.
3 years 3 months and 17 days.
it’s still surreal to me.
I didn’t want males. I started with 4 pullets, 2 Buff Orpingtons and 2 Lavender Orpingtons. One LO looked a bit bigger than the others and, sure enough, crowed one day. Traded him for 2 pullets. Several weeks later my favorite pullet Repecca, the remaining LO, stood tall and crowed. Nothing to do with him now but to rename him Roopecca and continue to love him.
He walked funny and never roosted due to pigeon toes. He had 2 back to back bouts of sour crop ending in wearing a bra. As he matured he decided I wasn’t a chicken and started attacking me...and hubby. Yeah, I should have culled his nasty self. But I had fallen completely and unconditionally in love with him. So he was given his own bachelor pad.
At one point I almost rehomed him but found I couldn’t do it. Instead I built him a bigger, roomier run. This run made it easier to care for him. Hubby and I were able to handle him easier and started a toenail clipping schedule once a week for his overgrown nails. He was looking happier and, as his molt was coming to an end, healthier.
Saturday night he was in the run watching through the chicken wire separation as the ladies enjoyed a before-bed-snack. He would make sure they got theirs before he enjoyed his. Later he was in his pop doorway, as was normal, monitoring the girls going into their coop for bed. As usual hubby had to “encourage” him to back up and go inside, closed the pop door and locked all the gates.
Sunday morning the pop door was opened by hubby and, as usual, Roopecca remained inside for a bit. 11am he hadn’t come out. Hubby found him lying in his spot like he was sleeping. Feet tucked underneath, wings against body, head tucked in. No sign of struggle, injury, or choking. Empty crop. He was gone.
3 years 3 months and 17 days.
it’s still surreal to me.
