Today was the day. Today was the day when Mr. Rooster was going to be "turned into a pie." At least that's what my daughter liked to say. "Mr. Rooster.... He's going to be a pie." This comment usually came after Mr. Rooster would flap his wings and charge her. It seemed that no matter how many times he got kicked across the lawn, he still wanted to attack the children. But Mr. Rooster was chosen from his brothers to be "our rooster". We butchered all the rest in August. But Mr. Rooster was spared because we felt sorry for him. He had been picked on by his fellow brother roosters. They would peck his bottom and tail feathers until they were bloody. In fact, we didn't even know if his tail feathers would grow in. But they did. He turned into a beautiful Buff Orpington rooster. Unfortunately, he also turned into a cranky ol' rooster.You'll recall that I recently wrote about having to separate the roosters from the hens a few weeks back. They were attacking the hens and injuring them to the point that two of them died. Today, we gathered the sequestered roosters up (that was an adventure in and of itself!) and put them in old apple containers that we secured a rectangle of chicken wire over. They were going to the poultry processor. As soon as we let the boys out of their confinement... yes, you guessed it. Ol' Mr. Cranky got me. He pecked me as hard as a hammer. Right on the knee. I no longer felt bad that Mr. Rooster was going to replaced. Eventually, (1.5 hours later!) we got all 27 roosters into containers, packed my Toyota with these 7 apple crates, and drove through a winter snow storm (well, maybe not a storm... only four inches, blowing wind and temps around 22. Not too bad). I ended up about 1.75 hours later at the processors. Strange... I sort of felt bad for our roosters. I'm glad that I didn't have to be the one who culled them.
Now we have a new rooster. He's relatively happy. One rooster to 33 hens. He should feel good. He was chosen from the 27 because when he was a little chick the feed barrel somehow got on top of one of his toes and amputated it. He recovered though. Now we have Mr. Two Toes as the king rooster. I sure hope he stays as sweet as he is now. He lets me pet him and pick him up.
The freezer is full. Perhaps we will have Mr. Rooster in a pie tomorrow.
Journey Joy: Roosters culled
