This past spring, we fell for the trick at the local feed supply store, where if you buy a bag of chicken feed, you get six chicks free. We split them with a friend, and they were supposed to be pullets, or female chickens. Apparently someone at the hatchery isn't very good at their job, or the feed store got a deal on chicks and didn't care what they were. Either way, the three chicks we raised and nurtured, hoping that one day they would repay the favor with fresh eggs for our family, turned out to all be roosters! All of them! Roosters!
With a flock of only 15 hens, having three roosters is at least two too many. Once we figured out that at least one was a rooster, he ended up on Craigslist. The rooster was posted just before I left for work on a Friday evening. Before I could get half way home, I already received a call. The post was very clear that I didn't care if it was for breeding or for their pot. The rooster had to go. One down.
The Oldest Son got somewhat attached to the other roosters, and was trying to convince the Good Wife and I that we should keep them, at least one. Since it was warm this summer, the windows were closed, and the chickens in their coop at 5:30 in the morning when the roosters would start to crow. Their crowing could be faintly heard if already awake, but it wasn't too strong to wake you up early. Kind of a novelty around the place, having a rooster that actually crows.
This happy, "Let's keep the roosters!" attitude all changed a couple weeks ago when they started getting aggressive and attacking the boys. One chased the Oldest Son all the way from the coop to the house. When Youngest Son went to get the eggs in the afternoon, he also go chased away from the coop. These "stories" were brushed aside. Until one chased the Good Wife. At that point, everyone else in the house was abandoning their chicken chores, and I was getting stuck having to feed them, water them and collect the eggs. The roosters had to go!
The family and the Good Wife's sister headed to Virginia Beach for Labor Day weekend so the Good Wife could run in a half marathon. I stayed home since the usual dog sitter was not available. No time like the present to "turn the roosters into a meal."
**WARNING - From this point on it is more of a pseudo tutorial on processing a chicken. Some photos may be graphic to some people. However, if you eat chicken, it is a fact of life. **
