- Sep 1, 2009
- 298
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I am no rooster behavior expert. As a matter of fact, and to no end to this bit, I am not too knowledgeable in any field. As I type this, I am getting the whiff of chicken poo from somewhere about my body. I have just went interior pin to physically abuse a uteful (youthful) EE rooster. It is my contention that EE roos are the most uncouth flock of beings that exist. I Have experienced 4 of the nut jobs to this point in my life, and there will be no more. They are the most sexually aggressive chicken I have dealt with.
I hatched some heritage RIRs this year, and after a head count, decided I didn't have enough pullets to suit me. I acquired 3 EEs and 3 cuckoos from my local Southern States; a fine establishment if I may say so. Well, one of them became a little sickly, and my dear wife, love of my life, nursed the little sob back to health. Man, where is the chicken poo smell coming from? Anyway, the little sob turned out to be a rooster. It should be said here that I had already established an opinion of EE roosters, having rung the neck of the last one, after he nearly killed a hen that wouldn't stand for his advancements. The RIRs are as fine a domesticated fowl as I have encountered; calm, peaceful, friendly disposition. The Marans tolerate me, and are all too eager to take treats from my hand. The two EE pullets pretty much remove themselves from any association of me. Good lord, that smell! Hold on, I have to remove these shoes or get up wind of myself: poo order is over coming me, eyes are watering. Note to self, check chicken butts after assuring yourself this isn't you. The sob in question has been friendly enough prior to teenage weeks (while I had years of teenagerism, chickens get through it in only weeks, lucky), but has become afraid of all else male since maleness has become apparent; I am male.
My wife is home. Her first comment was "Get out of the house. You smell".
Let's see, I have lost my train of thought. Anyway, I was setting in a very cool July breeze, under a blue ash tree I planted about 15 years ago, feeding raisons out of my pocket to the pullets gathered about me; a favorite pass time to shrug off the days woes. The sob caught a pullet, still in her formative weeks, in the pin and out of protective custody, and jumbed her. I don't think much of this goes on as long as the 2 RIR roos are about because of the fore mentioned fear of things male. I actually thought he might kill her before intervention took place. I have probably bruised tomorrow's supper, but the hammer has been lowered. He is in the waiting cell, dead chicken walking. Sorry wife, love of my life, but Fuzzy Face has got to go.
Anyway, I hope the RIR rooster (which ever gets lucky enough to stay) maintains his manners that he seems to have now. I am not sure I was that well behaved at that age,... or this one.
I hatched some heritage RIRs this year, and after a head count, decided I didn't have enough pullets to suit me. I acquired 3 EEs and 3 cuckoos from my local Southern States; a fine establishment if I may say so. Well, one of them became a little sickly, and my dear wife, love of my life, nursed the little sob back to health. Man, where is the chicken poo smell coming from? Anyway, the little sob turned out to be a rooster. It should be said here that I had already established an opinion of EE roosters, having rung the neck of the last one, after he nearly killed a hen that wouldn't stand for his advancements. The RIRs are as fine a domesticated fowl as I have encountered; calm, peaceful, friendly disposition. The Marans tolerate me, and are all too eager to take treats from my hand. The two EE pullets pretty much remove themselves from any association of me. Good lord, that smell! Hold on, I have to remove these shoes or get up wind of myself: poo order is over coming me, eyes are watering. Note to self, check chicken butts after assuring yourself this isn't you. The sob in question has been friendly enough prior to teenage weeks (while I had years of teenagerism, chickens get through it in only weeks, lucky), but has become afraid of all else male since maleness has become apparent; I am male.
My wife is home. Her first comment was "Get out of the house. You smell".
Let's see, I have lost my train of thought. Anyway, I was setting in a very cool July breeze, under a blue ash tree I planted about 15 years ago, feeding raisons out of my pocket to the pullets gathered about me; a favorite pass time to shrug off the days woes. The sob caught a pullet, still in her formative weeks, in the pin and out of protective custody, and jumbed her. I don't think much of this goes on as long as the 2 RIR roos are about because of the fore mentioned fear of things male. I actually thought he might kill her before intervention took place. I have probably bruised tomorrow's supper, but the hammer has been lowered. He is in the waiting cell, dead chicken walking. Sorry wife, love of my life, but Fuzzy Face has got to go.
Anyway, I hope the RIR rooster (which ever gets lucky enough to stay) maintains his manners that he seems to have now. I am not sure I was that well behaved at that age,... or this one.
