Or, my story of The Rooster formerly known as ChickenHawk.
ChickenHawk with one of his flock.
Now, as a general rule, I don’t name birds I am not keeping. It’s very difficult to process (butcher) an animal with name, at least in my worldview. The story I’m about to tell was a good learning experience for me, in particular, on the virtues of being patient.
I bought 16 chicks this past spring and I had a plan:
- I bought a few extra for attrition (it’s not unknown for up to 20% of chicks to die).
- Let them grow a bit and pick the ones I want to keep.
- Sell or process the rest.
Since I really like blue eggs, I knew I wanted another Ameraucana. So I made sure I included three Ameraucanas in my order, figuring worst case, at least one would survive. I was also able to order sexed chicks, females only. Fortunately, the chicks were so healthy, not one died in the entire batch. As they grew, I decided I wanted the white/brown/black Ameraucanas as she was beautiful. A little fierce, but I figured the big girls would tamp that down when the chicks were integrated into the main flock.
I was so excited. I named her ChickenHawk because of her fierceness and her looks. And I sold the other two Ameraucanas at right about eight weeks.
And then, at about 10 to 12 weeks of age, I heard some crowing… it was rough, not loud and clear like my rooster, Guapo, but definitely someone learning to crow. I was very worried as we have noise ordinances in my neighborhood. Guapo actually has a bachelor pad where he goes every night. He comes out just before I leave for work so he’s not waking up the neighborhood at 4:30 a.m. A second rooster would be a bit much for me to manage with this set-up. As I had pretty much settled on who I was keeping and who I was not, I was concerned it was one of the pullets (now a cockerel) that I wanted to keep.
I quickly found out it was ChickenHawk. I was devastated. He immediately lost his name. I made an appointment to have the now anonymous bird processed. All the while, sweating bullets someone would say something to the city code office as he was getting louder every morning. I was also watching him turn into a truly beautiful animal. Had I the wherewithal, I would have kept him. His tail feathers were growing out a brilliant teal. Combined with his overall coloration, he was becoming magnificent.
Before I go on, you may ask why I didn’t try re-homing him. I’m sure most, if not all of you, are aware how difficult it is to home roosters. Most people don’t want to deal with the 4:30 a.m. crowing let alone the aggressiveness. On a personal level, I hate waste and it seemed wrong to kill him and not use him for food just for being male. At least if he were processed, it wouldn’t be a total loss.
I was and am incredibly disappointed on several levels. I wanted more blue eggs. I hated processing a bird with a name (even though he lost the name, it was hard disassociating the name from the bird). I hated processing such a beautiful bird. I ordered a female! I know, all selfish reasons and first world problems. However, it was a good learning experience:
- Be patient! Never name until well after 15 weeks.
- Be patient! Do not sell until 10 to 12 weeks, minimum. That includes sexed chicks because obviously, mistakes happen.
I may also try a different supplier should I purchase more birds in the future. And, knowing that the pullets I did keep may eventually end up processed or sold, I did not name any of them. Why? As I mentioned above, unnaming is a bit more difficult than naming. Since I almost got physically sick on the way to the processor’s, it was an all around unpleasant trip for me and the bird.
And that’s the story of the rooster who used to be a hen named ChickenHawk.
3 Comments
Truly disturbing how so many choose to view other sentient beings as objects undeserving of being treated with respect, dignity and compassion. Where is your moral compass, people? “Processed” is a frilly feel-good word for murdered. Shame on you for lack of compassion. Choose VEGAN instead.
HA HA HA – yeah, In South Africa we don’t “process” the birds. We either slaughter or sell him. Luckily I live on a Wine Farm close to Cape Town – No neighbors and city codes etc to contend with. I only recently started with my chickens (moved from Johannesburg). I started with 4 hens and one rooster. They were (and still is) free ranging – having the run of the farm, only sleeping in their closed coop at night.
Unfortunately this privilege comes at a cost as a couple of months ago I lost a hen (ironically something got her in the coop) and a week or two later a second hen was eaten by my Bull Terrier. The remaining 2 hens started laying eggs and soon one of them was brooding. Soon the second hen also – all on one nest. At the same time I had something eating the eggs – suspecting wild mongooses. Eventually there was only one egg left with the two hens fighting over this one egg.
By this time something had gotten hold of the rooster and he got fatilly wounded and I had to put him down. I gave up all hope on the one egg, but one morning there was a chick. I took it (hope it is a rooster) away from the hens and are now raising it in the kitchen. He is now 3 weeks old and lovely.
I also started building my new chicken coop next to the house. B.T.W – the chicks name is Lucky…
There are countries that we condemn for murdering their female babies because they aren’t valued either. In both instances a life looked as a commodity; not as a sentient being…….