He’s our new rooster! He’s a 7 month old Partridge Rock, a subcatagory of the plymouth rock chickens (plymouth rock, myles standish, get it?) We already have two partridge rock hens in our flock, and they seem to be making friends
He and the fat meat rooster seem to be just fine. They scuffled a little the first morning, but now they just ignore each other, and no one seems worse for the wear. The meat rooster and his collection of fat hens should be moving along shortly anyway.
Unfortunately for Myles, I can’t say the same about the guineas. He has NO IDEA what they are or what he’s supposed to do about them. It’s kinda funny really. But he’s making good friends with the hens, and seems to be a very nice rooster. So I have high hopes for him. Our old rooster, Loony, passed away over thanksgiving break, and we’ve been looking for a suitable replacement for two weeks now. Roosters are easy to find, farms always have extra. GOOD roosters are few and far between. I could go on and on about the issues, but that’s not really what I’m hear for.
Loony earned is name because his distinctive crow ended with a drawn out tone that sounded a bit like the call of a loon. He was really the perfect rooster for my hobby chicken flock. He never showed favorites among the hens, helped his ladies find nesting spots, shared out the tasty treats evenly without eating them all himself. I wasn’t home the day the tornado ripped across my front yard, but driving home and seeing the destruction in my neighborhood my first thought was to wonder how many chickens I’d lost – and the answer was none. I don’t know where they hid, but I bet Loony had everything to do with it. Then there were the late summer afternoons when I’d go outside to see him standing in the middle of the field, staring down a juvenile red-tailed hawk, while not a single other chicken could be seen.
Loony was the rooster we almost lost when we moved to our current house. We packed the chickens up at 4am, when they should have been soundly asleep. Yet somehow Loony escaped my grasp and led me and Reggie on a wild chicken hunt through the pitch black woods for 2 hours. He then survived three days in the woods by himself because we were gone that weekend. When we came home sunday night he was roosting in the empty coop, waiting for us.
To say Myles has some pretty big shoes to fill* would be an understatement.
*What do rooster shoes look like anyway?