Tag Archives: animals

Dyslexic Roosters

When I walk out the door in the morning, I am assaulted with the neighborhood roosters and their loud greetings of the new day. Our neighborhood is more or less rural-suburbia, with folks having one or two acre lots. On those lots they can have chickens or horses or cows, and god knows what else…  I guess most of my neighbors have chickens and choose to keep roosters. I on the other hand, I choose to not have roosters. They are beautiful, I admire them, and that’s where the attraction stops; and after concerned painstaking effort on my part to choose chicks which were hopefully female, I ended up with FIVE beautiful Roosters and Nine hens. I was awaken one morning with a horrific squalling, squealing, and hooting weirdness coming from the direction of the chicken yard. Stumbling to the door I peered outside in that general area and proudly attempting to crow was one of the new pullets. You could hear him trying to form a crow but the noise was a pitiful example of crowing. Continue this progressive morning scenario for two weeks: The family who lives the next road over must have several roosters, and I watch the little gray one I have listen closely as they one after the other, crow with a vengeance. Then he begins to attempt a mimic of their crowing. Except his crow was totally backwards… I was hoping and praying this was just an overly testosterone laden female crowing (they occasionally will attempt to mimic). The days following however, proved me wrong. Dayam!  The little Gray Roo pullet who is attempting to crow is a Blue Ameraucana (Not really blue). Here’s a photo of a Blue Pullet.

backyardchickens
http://www.backyardchickens.com / Without their help, I’d never have gotten through my first set of babies. Wonderful site! I highly recommend it.

Most chickens when they crow make a Urt Urt Urt Urrrrrr sound. This little dude hit notes nothing like that. I busted out laughing… Ouuuuu-Urrrrr-Urt-Urt-Urttttt!  Ouuuuu- Urrrrr-Urt-Urt-Urt!  I could see him with a face which said, “No that’s not quite right”!  He kept practicing and practicing, his face contorted with the effort. He even bent his neck sideways trying to squeeze the vocalizations just right.  This kept up for about two weeks. Then suddenly another one popped out with a tentative crow. Oh God…. More Roosters! That week and the week that followed I counted a total of FIVE Roosters! They were promptly packed up and driven back to the breeder who guaranteed that they would be hens. If I ended up with any Roos’ he’d take them back. He was good to his word, but he was really surprised that his method of sexing them had failed so badly. I told him that the Blue Ameraucana crowed backwards.  He figured they just had baby crows and had not quite got the crowing down yet. Then as I stood there talking to him, the Blue let out a healthy, Ouuuuu-Urrrrr-Urt-Urt-Urt! The man turned quickly at watched him let out another Dyslexic Crow and he laughed saying, “Well I’ll be Dang” The little guy does crow backwards!”. Skip (the chicken guy), ended up showing him with the 4H kids.  I wonder how a Dyslexic Rooster fared out with the 4H judging? The Chicken Mama

Ouch&Throwing in the Towel

For weeks and weeks I’ve stumbled over the words and just decided to not say a word about the death of my little chicken love. I’m not sure how really to talk about it without bawling my eyes out. I’ve just really just tried to look at this from an outsider view of events which might happen to others…  An Onlooker I shall become, so I can talk and therapeutically exercise my heart-break.   It may work. We shall see.

No pet has ever make me laugh like Lucy (OK, I need to practice the “Onlooker” partition and disassociate myself for a bit) (I just rolled my eyes – Oh god). She was a near perfect chicken. She may have looked like a normal Buff Orpington, but from the start I knew she was something AMAZING! She proved to be just that and more.

Lucy-Morgan

Most chickens are just Chickens. Lucy was way above “Chicken” status. She’d reached favored pet, Best friend, and gave the bestest chicken hugs. Yes, I said, “bestest”. What else can you call it when a chicken sits on your lap nuzzles you close, and just puts her head on your shoulder and shuts her eyes? Yep, Bestest!

She followed me like a dog, gently pecked the beggar weeds off my shoes, and made little cooing sounds which told me she had discovered the bread in my pocket. If I was blue, Lucy was right there to remind me, ‘It’s going to be alright’.

There was a small wreck outside my house and in the rush to make sure all’s well out there, I forgot to close the gate all the way. A random dog also canvassed the scene outside the house, and found the open gate. Lucy and the other girls were out free ranging the acre, being chickens. The dog did what a dog might be prone to do in such a case; chase chickens. This he did and Lucy was dead before I could get him out of the yard. So, I feel a double whammy.  I leave the gate open, and Lucy is Dead. Of course I feel to blame.

I do know that chickens don’t live forever. I think 8 years is considered a nice long life. In trying to be philosophic here, but the sting is still burning of her being gone. I wasn’t ready to let her go.

Another stupid dog got Victoria, who I was able to save. Lucy she isn’t, but she’s a lovely, sweetheart of a hen who may just have potential… God knows, she sure doesn’t lay for crap! So, I’ll just love her to bits.

“I LOVE LUCY”  Thank you little darlin…