Chickens in the Basement

I love to write and I love to laugh. When I write, I get to the point quick. My stories would fit on the back of a postcard. They usually make me chuckle. And you know what they say, "It's all about me!"

Thursday, February 12, 2009

Roosters!

I don't know what it is about me and boys, but they just keep showing up!



Obviously, I'm married to a boy. Both of my children are boys. Our dog is a boy. We have three hens...GIRLS! Between them, they have hatched 15 eggs. Only three of those have been girls and I gave them to a friend before I realized that ALL of the others were boys!



If you have chickens, you know you can't have a whole bunch of roosters in the same place. They want to fight. They bully the girls. They chase children...human and chicken ones. They are VERY loud! They create more roosters! The final straw was when they were mean to my Skippy!






In the past, the boys have always found homes. I don't ask what plans the folks that take them have for the boys. However, they usually leave with folks who are purchasing goats from my neighbor. Come to your own conclusions!





With 5 roosters, my Skippy being one of them, it's time to scale down. I called my neighbor, Farmer Mary, to see if she knew of anyone looking for roosters. She said to bring the boys on over and put them in her chicken tractor, make a FREE ROOSTER sign, and she'll make sure they find new "homes".




Nelson the Pony
In order to catch the four out of five roosters that are going to new homes, we had to wait for them to roost. So, about 7:00 last night, in the dark, I grabbed the first rooster and walked over to Mary's to reconnoiter the fences, chicken tractor, and dogs. Fortunately, all of the dogs were inside, but they barked up a storm and kept my butt-cheeks tight. A baby goat tried hard to get out of the gate when I opened it. While I was keeping him in, holding a mad rooster, shining a flashlight on the gate while trying to lock it, and not step in any deposits, Nelson the Pony snuck up behind me and nearly made me make deposits of my own. I finally got this guy into the chicken tractor and had a plan for the other three.









Back at home, Tony had a large box and was ready to help. I grabbed one rooster and dropped him in the box. Tony slammed the lid. I went for the second one who freaked out. Riley thought I needed his help and tried to get in on the action. I had to let the rooster go, so he ran and hid in the covered ramp between the house and the run. Bluto, my oldest, slightly dim-witted rooster stood watching all of the action and looked stunned when I reached in to grab him. He is huge! The poor guy already in the box must have had the wind knocked out of him when we dropped Bluto on top of him.
Bluto in the chicken tractor.





Now, the escapee...Tony, armed with a hockey stick, encouraged him back into the house. After much flapping and stomping, he finally jumped up on the perch and settled down. My second grab went much smoother and he was loaded in the box.



We took this huge box across the street and forgot the flashlight. We went on feel to the gate and through the pasture to the chicken tractor. Nelson wasn't interested in me this time, but the baby goat was very nosy. It took a few minutes to convince the roosters to come out of the box. Even with it upside down, they managed to stay inside. With a little shaking and smacks to the box, they joined the first rooster.



No roosters were harmed in this activity...yet. Our shoes, however, will never enter the house again!




This morning, my Skippy is the BMOC! He has Cora Bell, Shakira and Ruby to hang out with. I'm hoping the girls will be nice to my cute boy.


My Skippy Chick
Cora Bell and Ruby

1 comment:

Em said...

Your chickens are very pretty! I wish I could keep a rooster... just for fun. And I don't mind the crowing... but we're not allowed,and I certainly don't want mad neighbors! I had three roosters in my basement until a couple of weeks ago, and they went back to the man who breeds them and gave them to me as day-old chicks.