Hey guys. Today I decided to start a story about my first rooster. I was at the Tractor Supply sometime in March some years ago. I asked the workers if they could only get us hens, so they said the roosters have slightly jagged wing feathers. I found this hard to believe, but I watched as they picked up the squirming chicks to examine their feathers. At one point, they lifted up a tiny chick. It was a light brown Sirirean with dull black stripes. They said this one was a hen for sure. I was not sure "she" would lay eggs, but I took her anyways. We put the eight chicks we had picked out in a box and drove home. We had prepared a cardboard box for them at our house so we gently placed them in it and switched on the heating lamp. They all scurried to the warmth, as all chicks do, and began laying on top of each other. As the days went by, we began to give them names. The tallest Golden Comet became Daffodil, the Barred Rock was named Night, and the two of the three Rhode Island Reds became Caramel and Stripes.The others were left alone. We all watched the small hen, but as the others grew, she stayed small. So we called her "Mini". The chicks eventually became larger and grew their wing feathers so we gave them all fitting names and moved them into a larger inside/outside coop. Strangely, though, Mini was always rather small. The weeks wore on, the hen's feathers gained sheens, and Mini was bursting in color. We all watched her closely, but she never crowed, so for the time being she was still considered a hen. Daffodil's crest was getting larger and larger by the day, and so was Caramel's. Strange. Were they older, or something? One day, I was going down to the coop when a strange, hacking noise stopped me in my tracks. It sounded nothing like a crow, nor a predator, so I continued cautiously. When I got to the coop and opened the door, the chickens were milling around aimlessly, as if nothing had ever happened. Then the noise shot through the air again, and I swung my head towards its source. The strange sound had erupted from Mini's beak. So we did have a rooster after all. Mini grew slowly. Eventually he had mastered his crow and began tripping over his wings and puffing up. His mating dance, perhaps. His tail feather became long, his crest large. He was rather impressive, except for his size. his crow was quiet, so we never sold him. I did enjoy having a rooster in the end. He was friendly and curious. Though he was not the boss, the hens liked him. He will always linger in my memory, even after his days are over.