You may or may not remember Skatha, the emo rooster that caused me weeks of physical therapy. I’m sorry to say his attitude has not improved, exactly. That is to say, he has improved with me but has gotten rather testy with the husband.
Perhaps its because I have developed a healthy level of fear. And by fear I mean the caution one presents when escaping the presence of an enemy. It requires moving very slowly as to not startle, it requires never turning one’s back on the threat, and it requires constantly presenting the beast with sacrificial grains whenever possible. Whatever the reason, he and I have come to some sort of neutral understanding.
However, as the years have gone by, we have found ourselves with less and less chickens. None of them have been taken by preditors. Or wandered away. We just occasionally find a dead chicken in the coop. Whether it succumbed to some disease, or ailment, we may never know. But there is also the possibility that one very ornery rooster might have something to do with it.
But one thing is for sure. This rooster has gotten meaner now that the rooster to hen ratio was 2/4 and it was time to even things out.
Now, many have told me to just treat myself to a delectable rooster dinner. But, not only have I not yet reached the animal killing level of homesteading, this particular rooster sports a very unique quality. His meat is black. Pet rooster aside, I just don’t think I could stomach black meat.
Our other option (other than leaving him outside the coop at night in hopes that some animal walking by isn’t as opposed to black meat) was to find him a new home. Somewhere he would be much happier and welcome. However, it turns out finding these places might be more difficult than hoped for.
Our first attempt came to us by way of a rooster orphanage. Who knew these things existed?? But yes, we found a place that takes in wayward roosters in need of a home. And we, in fact, had a rooster in need of a home. unfortunately, they apparently reached their orphan rooster quota and weren’t accepting any new birds.
Our second attempt came by a post on facebook. A woman was looking for roosters! Just roosters so her roosters could hang out with other roosters and they could bachelor it up with neverending boys nights. Because apparently many roosters with no hens are calmer than a few roosters WITH hens. So we contacted her and said hey! we have a rooster for you! and she said, great!
Except then she ghosted us and we never heard from her again.
Well, at this point we were beginning to feel like we would be stuck with this bird forever, tip toeing around him like he was a feathered God of fowls, ready to smite us at any moment.
and just when we were about to invest in full body armor for chicken feeding, another notification popped up inn our local facebook group. Another woman was looking for a rooster.
Apparently, she had a rooster to watch over her hens but one day he went missing. This is not unusual in these parts. Chickens just disappear. predators? alien abduction? Sometimes you just never actually find out. But her rooster went missing and she was in need of a new one. So, we contacted her and she was interested!
Now, we certainly didn’t want this woman to get ahold of this rooster without letting her know what she was getting into. We explained to her that Skatha was a bit nervous. But also that we thought a lot of it had to do with having 2 roosters and only 4 hens.
But all it took was a photo of him in all his black glory and she was sold. She’d been wanting a rooster just like him since she saw his breed at the local fair. And passed up several other roosters because her eyes were only on Skatha.
Now, at this point I was getting a little nervous. I was so afraid he would turn into a ferocious killer beast like his dinosaur ancestors as soon as we took her to grab her new rooster. That she would turn tale and run for the hills. Either that or he would end up right back in our barn as soon as she realized his nature.
With this in mind, I warned the husband that he’d probably should grab Skatha before she came to retrieve him. And, knowing full well where my thoughts were headed, he did just that. Grabbing him up as quickly as possible and putting him in the crate that has now housed baby chicks, sick chickens, baby kittens and evil roosters. You’d be amazed what a giant plastic bin can do.
As Skatha’s new owner drove up, she was presented cautiously with a bin full of rooster, with a warning that he may be extra jumpy. And she lifted that lid as the husband prepared himself to either run away or jump to her safety.
But neither happened. Because this rooster whisperer lifted Skatha right up like he was as tame as a puppy. She hugged him, and petted and loved on that rooster. And that rooster just sat there in her arms like he was King of all chickens being pampered by his minions. And as she cradled that evil chicken, the husband and her just chatted away and that rooster never made a peep. They were a match made in heaven. Love at first sight. They belonged together.
And as she drove away with her new rooster, we gave a sigh of relief. And the chickens gave a sigh of relief. I swear they are happier, friendlier chickens now that they aren’t being pushed around. Our other rooster can take his place as alpha and be the gentle ruler that he is.
And I don’t haver to eat black meat.