| I've now had my small flock of backyard chickens for 2 full months, and I am no closer to having any clue whether I've got hens or roosters. Or, more accurately, pullets or cockerels, since none of them are mature yet.
A few weeks ago, I could have sworn I heard a cock-a-doodle-doo. I dismissed it, as if it was a normal noise to hear around here, and then I heard it again. And... it hit me. If a rooster is crowing around here, my little flock of "hens" is the only possible source. As much as I wanted to delude myself that maybe it was some other rooster, I don't think that's likely.
The next day, my whole family heard a rooster crow. I warned the kids that we might need to find a new home for the culprit, but resolved that I would not get rid of any of my chickens until I caught them in the act of crowing. This is probably a little crazy, because if you look at a picture of our chickens, well... who do you think is most likely a rooster?
Uh, yeah. Exactly. My favorite chicken - then one we're now calling "Kate." (She'll be "William" if she's a boy.) I don't care if Elizabeth and Victoria wind up in someone's stew pot, but Kate and Diana are my little pets and I'm determined that they will both live long, pampered lives. Even if they turn out to be roosters.
When getting into raising chickens, I told myself I wouldn't be sentimental. I'll be like a real farmer. If we have a problematic chicken, or we end up with a rooster, they're dinner. Maybe not my dinner, since I don't really like chicken, but it would be ridiculous if every person in the whole city who accidentally got a rooster went about looking for happy homes for the roosters to live out long, happy lives. Unless someone's running a cock-fighting operation, what would they do with all of those roosters? You only need so many for breeding. About one rooster per 8 to 10 hens, if I'm not mistaken.
Fortunately, I haven't heard anyone crow for a few weeks now. Kate is still safe, thank goodness. I do have a good home where we can visit her lined up, just in case.
Chicken closeup. Here's "Kate" in a photo taken today. Our pampered ladies spent their morning eating pancakes out of my hands.
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