I texted the Chicken Lady: We have another rooster. He is a fine looking specimen… If I were a few decades younger and a hen… Anyway, could we just bring him back to you?
CL: Hahaha [laughing crying face] yes of course.
We arrived with roses from our garden to grease the skids, and she seemed delighted with them. When she saw the rooster she said, “Wow, that is a beautiful bird. You sure you don’t want to keep him?”
We didn’t, but I agreed. He truly was magnificent to behold. I honestly stared at him for a while, as his multi-hued plumage shimmered in the sunlight.
And then we gave him the boot.
In addition to the roses and rooster, we brought back one of the new chicks. Thanks to superb chicken sex-identifying advice from Jacqui of Word Dreams, Hubs and I spread the chicks’ wings to try to ID any potential roosters. One was for sure a hen–uneven wings, and one really seemed likely to be a rooster–even wings. The rest were a little unclear, so we decided to leave them for now and hope for the best.
I expected her to give us a new chick to swap out, but instead she gave us two. Not complaining. We’re back to ten birds after starting with seven, four of whom were roosters.
I woke up this morning to blissful silence.
Until another rooster crowed.
Make that five out of seven roosters. You don’t even want to know how much we’ve spent on chicken feed these past few months raising these useless birds. Sigh.