Roosters Gone

I live in a small acreage and we have chickens(hens).

We decided to get a rooster to hatch some chicks for our son(6 year old) to witness. We managed to hatch some chicks and among them were some roosters. As they grew we thought that we would be able to eat them as after all they are still chickens.

The problem we did not foresee was when our son started to name them. We had Archer, Greyish and Baby as some of the names he gave them. The nameless ones we were able to eat but it was still crazy with so many roosters trying to complete with each other even thou they were separated.

in the end we came across someone who was happy to take them from us. They could be rehoused as what the lady said.

The hens have settled down so much since the rosters are no longer there.

Seemed like a good idea at the time, heh. :wink:

On a recent trip to Queensland at a roadside stop in northern NSW there were 6 roosters, no hens, strictly a male preserve. Fine looking fellows they were. The lack of any sign of residences nearby made us wonder whether they had been dumped.

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Originally Posted by aldav

Seemed like a good idea at the time, heh. :wink:

On a recent trip to Queensland at a roadside stop in northern NSW there were 6 roosters, no hens, strictly a male preserve. Fine looking fellows they were. The lack of any sign of residences nearby made us wonder whether they had been dumped.

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Is that the rest area just south of Macksville? If so, it's well known around here as the spot people dump unwanted roosters. They seem to survive ok, probably well fed by people stopping there.

I can't remember exactly where it was, wollybugger, but it wouldn't surprise me if that's correct. It was only a small roadside stop, not one of the big, new ones. A toilet block and a covered table with bench seats. I remember there was a single access, egress point off the highway. 'The boys' were a fine looking bunch, an exemplary example of 'chookdom', so life was apparently pretty good.

As a kid on my grandies farm, we were expected to help with the butchering of chooks, ducks, rabbits, etc. One rule was that no named animal was to be killed when any of the kids were present.

But Archie and Alfred tasted just as good as their unnamed brethren.

One of my great uncles liked listening to the ABC News and many animals seemed to acquire the names of prominent politicians. One of the ferrets was called Santa "... because he was a devious bastard..." - suppose Santamaria was too long for a ferret.

We had a pet pig, named Pansy. One morning as we headed off to school Mum said " When you get home this afternoon Pansy won't be here". My sister, although two years younger was heaps smarter than me, said to me " they're going to kill Pansy so we can eat her, well I'm tellin' you now I won't be eating her!" "Me either" I said.
A couple of days later, on our return from school, we could smell the delicious aroma of Pansy baking in the oven, we couldn't get our bibs on and knees under the table quick enough.

Cheers,
Geoff.

When we lived in the country we bought an old school on a couple of acres. The former school teacher used to keep a cow and calf there until the calf was ready to go to the abattoir. They kept the grass down for us, so worked well.
Our teenaged daughter had a way with animals, and used to befriend the calves, pat and cuddle them, and give them names. Names like MacDonald, Burger, Pattie...she had no illusions about their fate.