Rooster Tales

Most people who know me knows we have chickens and ducks. I like to refer to our little abode here as a farm-ette or mini farm. It makes me feel better about having chicken and duck droppings all over the yard.

Before we started this gig I told my dear darling hubby that I absolutely did NOT want any roosters. I don't mind yard eggs, but I don't want to crack open any tainted eggs, if you know what I mean. Well, we ended up with a bantam rooster, the worst kind of rooster because they're so hateful. Apparently you can't tell the sex of the bantams until they're older. He was beautiful . . . . but hateful, just as I feared. He met his fate and is now living in rooster heaven . . . if there is such a thing for hateful roosters.

As my luck goes our neighbors have chickens too, but mostly roosters. I guess there aren't enough hens to go around at this guy's house so he keeps showing up in my yard and claiming my girls as his own.
He's gorgeous. He matches my girls nicely. He's not mean to the kids. But I don't like him. He's mean to my ducks and some of the girls . . . the ones he doesn't claim, I guess. My eggs are tainted. And now he thinks mi casa es his casa and started crowing for us this morning.

We usually don't hear him until later in the morning when he's coming down the road from his house to visit his girlfriends, but this morning . . . . yeah, try about 3:30. Did I say A.M.? Uh, huh. He might have to go to rooster heaven too.

Yep, I'm just that mean.

This guy? This is the rooster we didn't know we had. This is a Silkie. We have two. We thought both were girls.

Do you know why we thought he was a she? He doesn't crow. They both are similar in size and there are only minor differences, and that's only if you're looking closely. He's very docile and doesn't try to attack anyone, not even his girl. This is my kind of rooster.

Did I mention he doesn't crow? I like him. :o)