The Story of The Roosters. A Public Announcement.

Look how these ladies flock to Magneto.

Magneto exerting his power,  as his ladies stand in awe.

So what happened.

Sigh.

We had the two white roos.  Bohanan, and Hildago.

They became very ungentlemen like.  This I explained in a previous post......They were both given a two week- completely free range (as in NINE acres) to ---ahhh---calm down.

They did not.

Hildago got worse.

He got put on death row.

Bohanan didn't get worse- but he didn't grow any manners either.

The rooster previously named Mr. Ferguson just remained calm, cool and collected.

So as I watched for the two weeks hoping (really, really hoping) that (since these boys have already peaked in their (block your eyes) sexual maturity)) that they would hopefully just relax a bit and let up on the ladies.  But they did not.  As the two weeks went on, and I had the whole crew out from morning until they brought themselves in at night- it only seemed to get worse.

I had hens hiding.

Getting torn up.

Egg production went down.

The ladies steered clear of the boys.

And as I watched the two white roos go running ACROSS the yard JUST to peck at a hen and rip her feathers out- I thought--- this.  is.  it.

( I contemplating posting a picture of our hen that actually got bloody.  No feathers on her back,  wings,  or rump.  But its just too sad, and weird looking).

So what was the last straw?

After everyone had gone back to their yard,  ducks included,  I threw some scratch out for them to nibble at.   The ducks and chickens were very excited so they all run to the first pile I threw down which happened to be at the ducks.  The ducks not really tolerating the chickens near their pile of food typically put their heads down, open their mouths, and chase a chicken away.  No biting, just a "get outta here, look"  and the chickens mindlessly walk away.  Its no biggie for either of them.  No stress.  Just "get your own pile of food," with an "ok."

So as one of our ducks (prob Willie) gave a wandering chicken the ol "find your own pile of food," look, and the chicken did the "ok," and walk away-  Hildago saw the whole happening and decided to then beat the ever living crap out of the hen.

It happened so quick the hen had no idea what happened.

I had to boot him off of her.

I looked at David and said - "thats it."

The pardon was gone.

He was a dead man clucking.

So as I went inside, and washed the sorrow of feeling like a chicken master failure, I drank a glass of wine.

I looked out the window as David calmly grabbed Hildago, held him nicely, gun in the other hand....

I yelled out the window-  "make sure that its Hildago!  The "more yellow," rooster!"

David yelled back.  "Thats the one I got."

I finished my wine, and walked away.

I felt really bad.

Gohead make fun if you want - but anything with a heartbeat is something of value.  Life should not just be regarded as a mute thing.  I felt bad that I was the deciding one of this roos fate.

But I had to think of the ladies.

And its ladies first.

So off they went.

The next morning it was quiet.

No cockadoodledoos.

I open the hen house seeing how mellow everyone was.

But wait a min.

Wheres Bohanan?

I come back to the house, and ask David.

Ooops.

It appears that they went down together.  When I walked away from the window I didn't realize that David had also grabbed Bohanan thinking that I had also excused any pardon on him as well.

I was silent.

For a good part of that morning.

David felt like crap.

I wasn't mad at him.

But now I felt wicked,  wicked bad.

Then "this,"  happened.

I walked out in the yard and saw the Ferguson rooster, quietly clucking, calling the ladies, and the ladies drawn to him.  No screaming chickens.  Everyone eating. And the hens actually following Ferguson around!

All was quiet on the farm front.

And as I walked to the chicken yard, and peered into the ducks lil house I saw her.

The ransacked chicken.

She had hid in the ducks house the day before.  Didn't go into the coop that night.  Rather sleep with the ducks than go into the coop,  or even chance going out into the yard.

My heart broke for her!

But once I got her out and she realized she would no longer (lets say) be violated,  I knew that the choice to have the two boys go to the big coop in the sky, was sadly correct.

Since then (last weekend) egg production is back to normal.  The hens (and ducks) have been happy and actually hanging out with each other.  They aren't eating much feed, because they are happily out in the yard, roaming, and not worrying about having to ....run.

Its actually a really nice sight.

So why the name change on Mr. Ferguson.

Well I believe in new beginings, and I think this boy deserve a new one himself.  

There so happened to be the X-Men movie on the other day and my geek side came out.

So I named a rooster Magneto.

He has a red hat, wears gray, and the ladies are drawn to him.

Thats why.


You thought it would be some profound name change right?

Yah not really.

Just a geek appreciation thing.