Today after some deep soul searching we decided to cull the second of my 7 year old porcelain d'uccle roosters. Now under ordinary circumstances I am sad to make these decisions, but I accept them as a part of keeping chickens, and a part of life.
This decision has hit me very hard, yes, I'm crying for my little chicken, and I feel the need to share their story.
I bought a trio of porcelain d'uccle back in the early spring 2010. I must has looked like the novice owner I was. I had owned chickens, but I never had bothered to understand chickens before this year. I also bought a few bantam cochins. My d'uccle all turned out to be roosters. In hindsight they were obvious roosters when I bought them. The seller didn't share that information with me. I ended up with 2 pullets and 6 roosters.
This little band of bantam chicks began to follow me around the yard when I did my gardening. They would get right in there looking for the worms, and loved to help me dig around. They would come running across the yard in a mob when they saw me. I was in love. They hung out in one particular garden bed all day and it became a sort of chicken club house.
They grew up as all chickens do. I had to separate out some of the roosters because obviously there were too many. The little d'uccle fought amongst themselves on occasion, they were little scrappers.
I moved the trio out to the large chicken shed where they spent their first winter in a pen together. In the spring I released them and they found a spot in my shed full of large breeds to claim as their own.
That summer one of them decided I looked like I could be conquered, and he started to thump me on the back of my legs. It was so slight because he was so little, and at first I laughed it off. The next day it happened again, and than again. I started tossing my plastic coffee can I use to scoop feed at him every time I saw him. I kept it up for weeks on end until we reached a point where he would see me and cackle, than run the other way.
Now I have to explain to anyone that hasn't owned d'uccle before, that they have the most adorable side shuffle they do. Similar to someone wearing too big of slippers. They always seem to be running sideways. I find it very comical, especially while cackling like laughter the whole time.
The trio went on to dominate every rooster on the place with their bravado. They always backed each other up and traveled in a group. They were a gang no one messed with.
Every spring they attempted to retake the bantam coop for their own. They would go into the run, and beat up Mr. Marshmallow, the resident frizzle Cochin rooster. Mr. Marshmallow would leave the run for the pasture. The bantam hens would quickly follow him out, and I would find the trio standing in the empty run crowing up a storm. I would shag them out and lock them out.
They tried every year, I almost looked forward to it as a sign of spring. They continued to shuffle walk their way to chicken flock domination. They didn't often mate with the hens, and they never looked twice at the big hens. When they found an unsupervised bantam hen, they would take turns mating her. If I caught them at it I would shag them off. They kept me on my toes when they were younger.
Time passes as it often does. 3 years ago I noticed one had feathers stuck to his eyeball. Must of been that way for a while. I had been going through chemo, and my husband was taking care of everyone, including me so he didn't notice. The little buggar lost sight in that eye, but went on okay.
Earlier this year the one middle brother suddenly became weak and ill. We decided it was best to end his suffering. My heart broke. The bottom boy with the one blind eye slowly became blind in the other eye. I have been looking out for him for 3 years. His brothers would look out for him too, with the top brother often going to get him to show him where the food was.
As I observed this brotherly love between them I began to realize that these chickens think and feel just like we do. I continued to watch the one brother look after his weaker brother. He would chase off other roosters if they were trying to bother him, and continued to show him to the food and water.
So tonight due to his failing health I decided to cull the blind little guy. Our winters are brutal here in Wisconsin, and I didn't want to put him through yet another winter. My heart is broken. There is one d'uccle left. The strongest of the three. He will miss his brother I'm sure, although in the last few weeks he has been roosting elsewhere at night, so maybe he knew something.
Who knew a goofy little trio of trouble making roosters could get so deep into my heart. I'm practical. I know how life works, things live, things die, but sometimes they can worm their way into your life and heart and you don't even realize it until they are gone.
I have no point to my story, I just wanted to share it. I will miss what has become normal in my life. Chicken keeping has been the best thing I ever did in my life. They bring me such joy. I cannot imagine how people go their whole lives without knowing at least one living chicken. I myself have known many.
This decision has hit me very hard, yes, I'm crying for my little chicken, and I feel the need to share their story.
I bought a trio of porcelain d'uccle back in the early spring 2010. I must has looked like the novice owner I was. I had owned chickens, but I never had bothered to understand chickens before this year. I also bought a few bantam cochins. My d'uccle all turned out to be roosters. In hindsight they were obvious roosters when I bought them. The seller didn't share that information with me. I ended up with 2 pullets and 6 roosters.
This little band of bantam chicks began to follow me around the yard when I did my gardening. They would get right in there looking for the worms, and loved to help me dig around. They would come running across the yard in a mob when they saw me. I was in love. They hung out in one particular garden bed all day and it became a sort of chicken club house.
They grew up as all chickens do. I had to separate out some of the roosters because obviously there were too many. The little d'uccle fought amongst themselves on occasion, they were little scrappers.
I moved the trio out to the large chicken shed where they spent their first winter in a pen together. In the spring I released them and they found a spot in my shed full of large breeds to claim as their own.
That summer one of them decided I looked like I could be conquered, and he started to thump me on the back of my legs. It was so slight because he was so little, and at first I laughed it off. The next day it happened again, and than again. I started tossing my plastic coffee can I use to scoop feed at him every time I saw him. I kept it up for weeks on end until we reached a point where he would see me and cackle, than run the other way.
Now I have to explain to anyone that hasn't owned d'uccle before, that they have the most adorable side shuffle they do. Similar to someone wearing too big of slippers. They always seem to be running sideways. I find it very comical, especially while cackling like laughter the whole time.
The trio went on to dominate every rooster on the place with their bravado. They always backed each other up and traveled in a group. They were a gang no one messed with.
Every spring they attempted to retake the bantam coop for their own. They would go into the run, and beat up Mr. Marshmallow, the resident frizzle Cochin rooster. Mr. Marshmallow would leave the run for the pasture. The bantam hens would quickly follow him out, and I would find the trio standing in the empty run crowing up a storm. I would shag them out and lock them out.
They tried every year, I almost looked forward to it as a sign of spring. They continued to shuffle walk their way to chicken flock domination. They didn't often mate with the hens, and they never looked twice at the big hens. When they found an unsupervised bantam hen, they would take turns mating her. If I caught them at it I would shag them off. They kept me on my toes when they were younger.
Time passes as it often does. 3 years ago I noticed one had feathers stuck to his eyeball. Must of been that way for a while. I had been going through chemo, and my husband was taking care of everyone, including me so he didn't notice. The little buggar lost sight in that eye, but went on okay.
Earlier this year the one middle brother suddenly became weak and ill. We decided it was best to end his suffering. My heart broke. The bottom boy with the one blind eye slowly became blind in the other eye. I have been looking out for him for 3 years. His brothers would look out for him too, with the top brother often going to get him to show him where the food was.
As I observed this brotherly love between them I began to realize that these chickens think and feel just like we do. I continued to watch the one brother look after his weaker brother. He would chase off other roosters if they were trying to bother him, and continued to show him to the food and water.
So tonight due to his failing health I decided to cull the blind little guy. Our winters are brutal here in Wisconsin, and I didn't want to put him through yet another winter. My heart is broken. There is one d'uccle left. The strongest of the three. He will miss his brother I'm sure, although in the last few weeks he has been roosting elsewhere at night, so maybe he knew something.
Who knew a goofy little trio of trouble making roosters could get so deep into my heart. I'm practical. I know how life works, things live, things die, but sometimes they can worm their way into your life and heart and you don't even realize it until they are gone.
I have no point to my story, I just wanted to share it. I will miss what has become normal in my life. Chicken keeping has been the best thing I ever did in my life. They bring me such joy. I cannot imagine how people go their whole lives without knowing at least one living chicken. I myself have known many.
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