I am not a morning person. For me, farm life begins around 10 a.m. Once I’ve had my toast and tea I take my coffee out to the coop and let the girls come out to play. I had no intention of ever keeping a cocky, noisy, doesn’t-know-it’s-only-4 a.m. rooster. And yet there is a rooster in our midst. It seems I’ve been betrayed by my dear, sweet Miney.
People say it’s a good idea to have a strong, healthy rooster to protect the girls from predators. We certainly learned the hard way with the loss of Meanie that our flock is at risk, but I’m not sure Miney would be my first choice as the protector of the flock.
Miney, winner of the prestigious Most Awkward Chicken Award maybe.
Miney, who can’t figure out how to reach the other side of the gate despite the fact it’s not connected to anything.
Miney, who stands on my boot, trips over the water bowl, falls down stairs, and crashes blindly into low-hanging branches. Miney, scared of his own tail feathers (but what lovely tail feathers they are!).
Miney, my spastic little goofball and constant source of quiet entertainment. How could
she he do this to me?? Hmmmm???
I’ve been hoping beyond hope that she’s just an extremely handsome hen, but I checked in with the nice folks at backyardchickens.com and they tell me to give in. At the very least, those pointy feathers spell rooster all the way.
So I guess we have a little roo in our flock, and of course it has to be Miney, my gentle little goofball. I will keep him, of course, and pray that he retains his sweet, quiet manner. Beyond that, we just have to hope our little genetic misfit never figures out how to reproduce!
~~~~~~~~~~~ END POST ~~~~~~~~~~~