Saturday morning, we heard some strange noises coming from the chicken coop. At first, I thought it must have come from a neighbor’s house, and so kept on with what I was doing. Then, we heard it again. Hubbs and I rushed outside, when to our shock and dismay, we found this:
All this time, we’ve been raising her as a lady, waiting for her to lay, and now we discover that Bear is not a hen after all.
Now you may look at these pictures (as we do, now) and say “Oh, what a nice rooster!” But in our defense (we’re new to this whole chicken farming thing after all) we bought the chicks understanding that they were all female, we were told she would be a beautiful chicken, and many of the other hens have those red deals on their faces.
Because of his new habit of crowing at 6:00 a.m. and bullying the ladies, our desire to comply with city ordinances, and our desire to be on good terms with the neighbors, Bear is currently enjoying his last day out in the yard. Tomorrow, our coop will be one rooster lighter.
Hubbs did warn him, after all, that all this crowing would turn out to be bad for his health.