Name/Aliases: Rusty, Rusty Bucket, THE Bucket, or "Rusty One feather" depending on how much he's annoying me that day
Breed: Unknown, but suspected Lemon Cuckoo Niederrheiner
Age: Unknown, was told "two" but he acts like a pensioner when there's no human to ward off
Story: Rusty is the king, and he'll let you know it. He follows every yard interloper up and down the fences and crows like mad as soon as you are a few yards away. Because "he won" and the entire neighborhood needs to know. But he wasn't always this way!
(Pictured: The Bucket going through a rough molt but still giving me the evil "side eye". This is also where the "Onefeather" joke originated)
I can only suppose he got to be so high and mighty when I answered a "free to good home" ad and he suddenly received a competition-free flock of nine literal spring chickens of the female persuasion. At the time, I found him incapable of perching or judging distances for jumps at all. He often tripped over his own spurs or just ungathered twigs in the chicken run. I worried that he'd never succeed in chasing or catching hens, which was a problem because I wanted his former owners to know he was getting to live his best life, including passing on his genes!
Well, I learned that hens aren't opposed to initiating after all, and it became comical to watch them squatting down and bracing themselves while he slowly considered whether it was worth it to take two steps and hop on vs. continue enjoying the scenery. Often the moment just passed, leaving a disappointed hen to go console herself at the feeder instead!
(Pictured: Rusty after some much needed tailfeather regrowth. Despite his questionable virility he does clean up nice!)
I let one of my hens go ahead and brood a clutch of seven eggs during the winter, realizing it would be difficult but still hoping if I provided enough shelter she'd be able to hatch something based on his very occasional "success". However, the eggs showed no development after 24 days and she had to be convinced to give it up. I was about ready to give up on Rusty, too.
Lo and behold, springtime brought some unexpected life to this dried up old man and suddenly my hens were missing a surprising amount of saddle feathers. My broody started spending hours in the nestbox again and Rusty apparently decided it was time to put the humans in their place as he began his new dynasty. His evil sidling behavior is now constant unless you are carrying a broom. You can't turn your back on him without provoking an attack of opportunity. But the worst that usually happens is you have a feathery football pecking at your foot or he attempts flogging but flies clumsily past you, because he is still a terrible judge of distance
At long last, my broody succeeded in getting 6 out of 12 eggs hatched. Rusty turned out to be a distant, grumpy father who can't be bothered with their annoying behavior, but he continues his increasingly protective behavior of them and the entire flock. I'm proud of the annoying idiot, and he remains the heart of my flock.
And the babies? 5 out of 6 BOYS. Turns out he was used as a breeder by his original owner until they observed that he mostly threw cockerels.
Well, at least I have a bunch of tiny Rusties to carry the line once he finally is done with the breeding scene for good! Hens determine gender, right? Maybe they are already trying to replace him???
The Bucket, of course, says that isn't gonna be any time soon.
(Pictured: How Rusty imagines himself. The rooster image is a mask from a very violent game called Hotline Miami that confers certain attack bonuses... The resemblance seems quite appropriate to me!)
