As I was taking my daily stroll to open up the Hen House last Sunday morning, I was welcomed with an unexpected greeting. For the first time as a new chicken mother, I heard the unmistakable sound of a rooster's crow. I opened the first set of shutters and said, "Which one of you is it? Give it to me again." And sure enough, Roberta Redford sat up tall and belted out another, "Err-err-err-err-ooooo!" Dammit. I was so sure that we were rooster-free. Ben claims to have known it, deep down in his heart, all along, that Roberta was really Robert.
She He is just slightly larger than the rest, but he sure had me fooled.
I have to say that of all the chickens, I'm glad to call him our rooster. He is a gorgeous Ameraucana, covered with rainbow feathers and looks like half of his DNA is from a wild turkey. Robert is also very sweet and has a great personality (roosterality?). I hope puberty doesn't bring out the worst in him.
I think that Robert's new-found crow is a harbinger for better times to come in the egg-laying department. Our babies are now four and five months old, and I'm ready for a quiche. Robert's new crow is like a 14-year-old boy's trash stache (in my mind, at least). So, if he's got a trash stache, then the girls have to be getting their first periods soon, right? Menstruation happens after ovulation, so our hens best be laying soon. Just plain logic.
I never wanted a rooster, but this is his home, and I'm happy to have him. On the down side, that knocks our number of pastel-egg-laying hens down to three. However, no one is laying eggs yet, so whatever.