Jurassic Park

It’s a common thing in Tasmania to dump male fowl.

Hell, it might be common on the mainland as well. It might be common all over the world.

It probably is because people are generally just rubbish, especially when it comes to their treatment of animals. Across the animal kingdom you got about a 50-50 split between males and females of any given species. Selective breeding hasn’t done away with this. Any season of births is gunna get you a decent whack of boys and girls.

If you’re breeding animals for production purposes like milk or eggs or even meat girls are useful, boys are not. Girls are generally more placid, boys are a pain the arse and don’t give much for all the resources you pour into them. Think of sheep, goats, cattle, fowl. There are exceptions, but you mainly want girls.

Now think of the poor bloody rooster. He’s rambunctious to a fault. He’s a noisy bastard and he doesn’t really do anything except keep the hens happy. If you have more than a few boys it can be a real hassle for the hens who have to put up with too much attention. So if you’ve got a coupla backyard hens and one hatches roosters what do you do?

Around here folks dump them by the roadside. There’s a couple places with little colonies of roosters kicking around. There’s one near L'd, a couple near K'n and a place up near H'h in the hills where folks will just leave them. These animals aren’t dumb. They form attachments to their humans. Leaving them on the side of the road causes real confusion. The person who’s nurtured them suddenly leaves.

Add to that the issues of predators, cars and lack of food and water during drought and it’s not a happy life for the boys. It’s true there are fewer predators in Tassie than pretty much anywhere, mainly because we’re free of the red fox. That’s probably why you don’t see these colonies on the mainland. I’m guessing they’re dumped but they’re quickly eaten by the local fantastic mister usher of extinction.

So in one place we lived last year we had two clucky hens and a briar hedge that was difficult for us to get into. One of the girls hatched fifteen chicks. All but two were boys. 

Thirteen goddamn roosters.

It's your own fault, Maggie.

Not all survived. That’s how it goes with chickens. One got eaten by the Tassie Devil that got into their pen at our old place. We’ve ended up with seven big healthy rooster boys. They’re too rough on the girls so we keep them in a pen down the back, a little reserve we’ve fenced off for them. They’ve got an area of tea tree and scrub with plenty of room to kick around in where they’re safe and happy.

Boss. Not very boss.

And they’re such lovely animals. When I go visit they run around excited to be fed, they talk and kick things around. They’re excited to seem me, strutting up and down when I get to the pen and crowding me when I go into the pen. They’re still a little confused. They’ll grab food and run off with it, shouting for a girl to come eat it even though the hens are all at five hundred metres away. They don’t fight each other since they’ve been brought up together.

Some of them have names. Not all because it’s hard to distinguish between a bunch of rhode island reds. One of them has a bit of new hampshire in him so he’s bigger and border="1" more orange than the rest. His name is Boss. He doesn’t really live up to the title since he gets bullied around by the others, but he’s oh-so pretty.

Food. Good.

Then there’s Devil. Devil’s comb is a little diabolical. He also got bit by a tassie devil last year and lost a bunch of feathers on his neck. He must be the toughest damn bird there ever was.

There’s others called Duck Fucker and DB. Duck Fucker’s named for predilections that became obvious late last year when we were living up in the hills and he got particularly friendly with the muscovy ducks.

We thought DB was a hen for a while, he didn’t develop a tail properly and he’s more hen shaped than the others.

We nearly lost him because he got off into the bush where we were living last and I just couldn’t catch the bastard. Ended up coming up on him in his sleep and shoving him in a box which must have sucked for him and made me feel horrible, but it was for the best.

Butts and feathers and feathered butts

So now they live in the bush on my inlaws land. They get fed daily, have fresh water and they’re happy dudes. They don’t annoy anyone with their crowing and they don’t fight. They’re so attached to their brothers and their pen that one when one got out a few weeks back he wandered around near main house fretting. I had to grab him and take him back.

Another time I found Boss wandering around in the bush. He walked up to me, warbled a little noise and then followed me back to the pen. I’d never walked a rooster before that.

 

 

Labels: animals, chickens, down on the farm, more roosters, roosters, roosters are awesome

what are your thoughts? 0 Comments

posted by Da at 3:12:00 PM