I have more of a livestock than pet attitude regarding my chickens, but I was very sad to have to end my black Ameraucana rooster last night. Sir Robin was named after the Monty Python version, because he was the bottom rooster in the grow out pen, and more than once "bravely ran away". He escaped the Amish butcher by cackling like a hen (I'll just send this one back because that stupid woman does not know her pullets from her cockerels). He never defended his girls as a good rooster should, surviving mink attacks by flying to the tops of the coop and leaving the girls to be defended by the Speckled Sussex rooster Arthur. He was even beat up by a hen who did not think much of his courtship dance. Still, Sir Robin had a beautiful pose. His glossy green sheen on his black feathers in the sun light was inspiring. At the fair, when little children wanted to pet a rooster, I could always count on Sir Robin to graciously accept their attentions. He even submitted to being a lap chicken for half an hour at a time when little ones just wanted to hold a chicken and never let go. He never attacked persons visiting the pen. I used him in many demonstrations, and he had many admirers. He was a blue bibbon bird, but never a top blue. But he would stand and show-off like he was on champion row. A boy he was, and he could not stand to see another rooster in his territory. He tried to fight another rooster through the pen wire one to many times and hung himself upside down by his spurs. We resuced him, but his leg would not take any weight. We gave him a few days, but soon realized it was out of our skill to correct. He is in less pain now. Thank you Sir Robin for your time with us and your many chicks. We hope to see glimpes of you in future generations. And yes, we will be more diligent about removing spurs in the future. No need to harass me today.