I've thought about getting a rooster for awhile, but resisted the temptation because I was worried about it being mean to my children and other complications.
However, when a friend showed up with a rooster in a laundry basket when she came to pick up some filing cabinets I no longer wanted, and asked if I wanted him, I couldn't refuse. My husband knew the decision was made when he saw me holding the rooster, wrapped in a blanket to keep him calm on the ride over, in my arms.
Sir Rose was Rosie until this morning when he began to crow. They were about to leave the house this morning when the children heard him crow. My friend couldn't have a rooster in her neighborhood so she was on the way to give him to her family members, to whom she'd already given another unplanned rooster. Then she remembered that I had chickens, and offered him to me first. My girls renamed him Sir Rose. Sir Rose has had lots of human attention from my friend's 5 children, so I hope he'll be nice.
I put Sir Rose in the chicken tractor within the pen for his own safety. The chickens need a little time to adjust to this newcomer. When I separated him from the two hens to whom I introduced him, he had a bleeding wattle. The hens were fine. Currently, my concern is my hens being nice to the rooster. My children may learn the true definition of "hen pecked!"
Labels: chickens, Rooster