What are the odds that two of the three “hen” chicks we brought home from the feed store would turn out to be roosters? Well, I’m not a math person, but my son says it’s more than 1 in 10,000. I guess that makes us “lucky.”
You know from a previous post that Lucille was taking on a masculine look. Yep, she crowed. Just looking at her now, there’s no doubt she’s a he.
Lucille, now know as Lou
The real surprise was Mildred, my favorite hen. She’s a barred rock, and just looks like the traditional hen. Or, she did look like the tradition hen until a few weeks ago. Her comb and wattles just kept growing. After awhile I had to admit, she was one seriously large chicken. The long tail feathers and the beginnings of spurs still weren’t enough to convince me, but when you put that all together with the constant crowing, it equals rooster.
Mildred or Milton
So this is how the equation goes:
~We bought four chicks.
~One chick was supposed to be a rooster. That’s Howard.
~Three chicks were sold as 99% sure they were hens.
~We actually have three roosters and one hen.
Do you know what that means?
It’s VERY loud on the farm! Each morning at about five AM the boys start to crow. It’s not just once or twice. They play off each other, like it’s a crowing competition.
I’ve settled into a new routine. They crow, and I grope the nightstand, find my earplugs, and shove them into my ears. This has meant a few close calls with the alarm, but it’s the best solution for now.
As for eggs, well, Bitsy is at this moment sitting on a nest she made. It, of course, is not one of the beautifully designed nest boxes I built into the coop. This one is behind a bush. But she’s been there for awhile, and I’m hopeful this will produce our first egg. Our home-grown breakfasts are all dependent on this one chicken!
Just another day on the Nelson farm.