This is an interesting thread. Roosters. Hmmm. I like roosters, but I have exceedingly high standards for rooster behavior. Which of course means that I don't have a mature rooster on the property. I've had 3 that lived to maturity in the past, and it just didn't work out the way I wanted.
The first one came with my original flock of POL pullets. He was a free range bird who had never been fooled with much. I continued in that tradition, and things went well for a good long time. Then he started getting uppity with me, and the husband put a quick end to that. We used all of his sons for meat birds, because I felt that I didn't need a rooster. Really...
Then I started hatching (shipped) eggs and naturally I got a lot of roosters. I have sold or given away twenty-some odd roosters over the past couple of years. Maybe more. I'm not a huge hatcher, but I have to appease my broody hens from time to time.
I kept two roos last year. Each had his own pen and flock of hens. They were lovely birds, and I enjoyed them for quite a while. They were very different personality-wise. One was quite friendly. So I interacted with him a lot more. I didn't hold or cuddle him, but I sat with him and hand fed him, and just generally worshipped the ground he walked on. He grew into a manfighter. Or womanfighter, as the case may be. Now, I thought that I knew what a manfighter was. I thought my first roo was a manfighter when he occasionally made a running pass at the back of my legs. No, he was actually a great big wuss. This guy would go toe to toe with me. Head on, no backing down, fight to the death. I'm still here, he's dead. Very sad situation. I was in love with him.
The other rooster was very cautious of people. He wouldn't even look you in the face. I liked him, too. He was drop dead gorgeous. But no huggie/smoochie going on. I could live with his behavior toward people. I don't think I would ever have had to deal with him attacking me. I could be wrong about that. But anyway, he didn't make the grade because he was very, very rough with the hens. So he went the way of the rooster, too. (Delicious.)
I have two of his sons now. (I wouldn't have dreamed of keeping any sons of the manfighter.) These two little fellas are about 16 weeks old, and their hormones are raging. I don't handle them. Just enough to do whatever routine maintenance needs to be done, and I take them off the roost for that. They had started to cause a problem at free range time, wanting to molest the hens, which is what teenage roosters do. So my husband started supervising free range, and had knocked them into shape in no time. I say that in a completely nonviolent way. He doesn't actually knock them around. It's an amazement to me what his presence does to their behavior. He is clearly the alpha roo. I'm not sure where I am failing in this department! It's true that he's nearly a foot taller than me and outweighs me by a good 100 pounds, but that's not it at all. It's his attitude. He can and will chop their heads off without batting an eye. He is not emotionally involved with them in any way, and would prefer it if they didn't exist. They exist only because I want to try and find this mythological great roo that I keep hearing about.
I have decided to try something new this year. A bachelor pen. I have two broody pens. They are now bachelor pens. I moved the two little fellas last night. I can't see any reason why they should be allowed to mess up my hens' feathers all winter long. I don't need any hatching eggs. The girls I would want to mate them to aren't even laying yet. So I'm gonna give that a try. It may be a terrible idea, but it's a new one, so we won't know until we try.
I also have two younger roos of a different breed. Adorable! I can't get enough of them before their hormones kick in. When that happens, they can also go to a bachelor pen, if necessary. A separate one, of course.
So, there's my sad story. I've never had an acceptable rooster. It's true that I generally rid myself of their obnoxious presence at or before 4 months of age. So it's possible that I've sent some wonderful roos on to good homes, or to the crockpot. I don't cuddle them, but the one I handled the most frequently turned out to be the worst of the lot. Coincidence? I don't know. None of them have ever dared to try anything untoward on my husband. He wishes they would. But they know better.
The first one came with my original flock of POL pullets. He was a free range bird who had never been fooled with much. I continued in that tradition, and things went well for a good long time. Then he started getting uppity with me, and the husband put a quick end to that. We used all of his sons for meat birds, because I felt that I didn't need a rooster. Really...
Then I started hatching (shipped) eggs and naturally I got a lot of roosters. I have sold or given away twenty-some odd roosters over the past couple of years. Maybe more. I'm not a huge hatcher, but I have to appease my broody hens from time to time.
I kept two roos last year. Each had his own pen and flock of hens. They were lovely birds, and I enjoyed them for quite a while. They were very different personality-wise. One was quite friendly. So I interacted with him a lot more. I didn't hold or cuddle him, but I sat with him and hand fed him, and just generally worshipped the ground he walked on. He grew into a manfighter. Or womanfighter, as the case may be. Now, I thought that I knew what a manfighter was. I thought my first roo was a manfighter when he occasionally made a running pass at the back of my legs. No, he was actually a great big wuss. This guy would go toe to toe with me. Head on, no backing down, fight to the death. I'm still here, he's dead. Very sad situation. I was in love with him.
The other rooster was very cautious of people. He wouldn't even look you in the face. I liked him, too. He was drop dead gorgeous. But no huggie/smoochie going on. I could live with his behavior toward people. I don't think I would ever have had to deal with him attacking me. I could be wrong about that. But anyway, he didn't make the grade because he was very, very rough with the hens. So he went the way of the rooster, too. (Delicious.)
I have two of his sons now. (I wouldn't have dreamed of keeping any sons of the manfighter.) These two little fellas are about 16 weeks old, and their hormones are raging. I don't handle them. Just enough to do whatever routine maintenance needs to be done, and I take them off the roost for that. They had started to cause a problem at free range time, wanting to molest the hens, which is what teenage roosters do. So my husband started supervising free range, and had knocked them into shape in no time. I say that in a completely nonviolent way. He doesn't actually knock them around. It's an amazement to me what his presence does to their behavior. He is clearly the alpha roo. I'm not sure where I am failing in this department! It's true that he's nearly a foot taller than me and outweighs me by a good 100 pounds, but that's not it at all. It's his attitude. He can and will chop their heads off without batting an eye. He is not emotionally involved with them in any way, and would prefer it if they didn't exist. They exist only because I want to try and find this mythological great roo that I keep hearing about.
I have decided to try something new this year. A bachelor pen. I have two broody pens. They are now bachelor pens. I moved the two little fellas last night. I can't see any reason why they should be allowed to mess up my hens' feathers all winter long. I don't need any hatching eggs. The girls I would want to mate them to aren't even laying yet. So I'm gonna give that a try. It may be a terrible idea, but it's a new one, so we won't know until we try.
I also have two younger roos of a different breed. Adorable! I can't get enough of them before their hormones kick in. When that happens, they can also go to a bachelor pen, if necessary. A separate one, of course.
So, there's my sad story. I've never had an acceptable rooster. It's true that I generally rid myself of their obnoxious presence at or before 4 months of age. So it's possible that I've sent some wonderful roos on to good homes, or to the crockpot. I don't cuddle them, but the one I handled the most frequently turned out to be the worst of the lot. Coincidence? I don't know. None of them have ever dared to try anything untoward on my husband. He wishes they would. But they know better.
