A couple weeks ago I wrote about our batch of chickens for 2014--a baker's dozen, to be exact. And it was a good thing I accidentally bought 13 instead of 12, because our favorite one turned into a rooster. :(
I didn't even know what kind of Bantam "she" was because the girl at the feed store didn't know. (And I still haven't been able to figure that out, so if you happen to know, please leave a comment.) This little chick had such interesting coloring and I had wanted to try a Bantam, so I picked "her."
I named "her" Singer because her cheep was so much louder than her box mates', as if she were trying to sing. She grew really fast, as chickens do, and was only slightly smaller than the others.
We loved watching her "crown" change almost daily, and how it bounced and jiggled with each movement. She was truly entertaining to watch!
But, advancing into the "teenage" years, Singer turned into Punk--or "Fo-hawk," as some of the kids called him--as we began to hear him crow each morning. Our area isn't zoned for roosters, so we started asking around, trying to find someone who wanted a rooster.
Unfortunately, most chicken owners don't, so it wasn't an easy task. I advertised online on as many sites as I knew, with no results. So we did this photo shoot to always remember him by. And then my dad and husband took him to the river to become part of the food chain. At first I hadn't wanted to consider that option, but as the days stretched into weeks with no takers and he continued crowing super loud every morning, we finally grew desperate (and didn't want to kill him ourselves; he wasn't hardly big enough to eat anyway). At least with the river option, I reasoned, he could do someone some good, whether it was a snake or a bird of prey or a raccoon...
So we don't know what ended up happening with this, our first rooster, but we're grateful for the time we had to watch him grow and to be amused and entertained by his cool plumage. :)
