Blog-A-Doodle-Doo!

There are times when I am pretty sure that the love of my life purposely does things to test my patience. Other times, I think that maybe he just likes to challenge me. Either way, I'm living right in the middle of one of those testing and/or challenging times...as it seems that upon buying our new house, we instantly became bonified chicken farmers. 

Just to add a little back story here - I am petrified of birds. I had a bad experience that involved my hand and a mean ass endangered bird at the zoo when I was in 8th grade. "Hold this cup in your hand and be still." they said. "The birds will land on your hand and eat the food from the cup." they said. "The bird will start to ignore the food in the cup and will brutally try to eat your hand instead and your friend will have to punch it in order to save your life." no one said. Because of what no one said, I've spent the better part of my life running from and freaking out over anything with beak that got within 10 yards of me. That's why when Christopher came to me and said he wanted to raise chickens, I thought for sure that he was joking....but I was wrong. 

Despite my fear of the beaked animals, and my being convinced that I would end up attacked by one, he was determined that this chicken business was going to happen whether I liked it or not. He was bringing some damned birds home and that was that. And well, that was that. Mind you, Christopher is a "do it and work out the details later" kind of person, and I'm a "prepare everything first and then do it" kind of person...so when he brought home a box load of chickens, two ducks and a turkey without making accommodations for them first, I was a bit perturbed. That was the first of many long nights that I've spent building a chicken coop. 

Now, this batch of birds wasn't all that bad. They were just wee little babies, and they couldn't have hurt me if they wanted to. This gave me time to get adjusted to them while they were harmless, and it also gave them the opportunity to get used to me. I'll admit, the ducks were pretty damn cool and the turkey tickled the shit of me. The chickens minded their own business, free ranged, did their thing, and it wasn't near as bad as I had expected it would be. 



A couple months went by without incident, and then we came home from work one day to find that a predator of some sort had killed most of the flock. There were poofs of feathers all over the yard...no bodies or body parts or evidence of what had been there and the better part of the birds were gone. Later that evening our big rooster came hobbling back home, all tore up, and he died later that night. It was a sad day at headquarters. 

After the massacre, we were left with 4 big laying hens, 2 bantam roosters and 2 bantam hens. We spent quite a few more nights building a coop inside the back door of the garage so our survivors had a good sound safe haven from the evil critters of the unknown. Soon, after months and months of caring for these birds, they started laying eggs. I felt a mild sense of victory but I still felt that we had a done a crap load of work for something I could have easily picked up at Kroger. 

At this point Christopher is feeling much like a "chicken whisperer" and decides that he doesn't want to just have a couple laying hens...he wants to breed, incubate and hatch chickens too. In order to breed, incubate and hatch some big chickens, he would need to obtain another big rooster...and then, there was Rooster Raymond. 

Scrolling through Facebook on a random Sunday I see a friend of mine's husband had posted "free rooster, 2 years old, come get him!" So later that night, we go to get him. On our way there I get a text from my friend that says, "They call him Raymond..."



Raymond was asleep in the coop when we got there. Chris walked right up, opened the coop door, reached in and pulled his big ol' butt out. My friend looked at me wide eyed and said "what the hell is he, a chicken whisperer?" and to that I replied with a sigh..."yes, yes he is." I should have read between the lines there, but who's the whisperer here? Not me. 

The story on Rooster Raymond went something like this: he is a dying breed, called a "something something Delaware" and that the eggs for this breed could bring a pretty penny if we had a "something something Delaware" hen. Upon Googling this said "something something Delaware" rooster we discover that he is indeed a critically endangered breed, and that while they are considered a calm bird, they are by no means a friendly bird. What Wikipedia meant to say was, "this bird is a bonified jackass, you suckers!" 



Again, we get home with a box containing a bird that we don't have accommodations for. Knowing that Raymond and our bantam rooster Roy would fight, we put Roy in a small crate for the night. The next day, we commenced to fixing up the little makeshift interim coop of the baby birds past so that we could put it inside the big coop and use it to keep the bantams separate. 

...and now we get to my favorite part of this here chicken saga! 

As Christopher, me, and the boy are shoving this heavy little coop inside the big coop, Rooster Raymond becomes slightly agitated with the situation at hand. As Christopher walks backwards, holding the little coop up off the garage floor while we push the other end, Rooster Raymond turns into a honey badger...and you know what they say about honey badgers. 

Now, I'm no expert on birds and I've never been straight up flogged by a chicken, but I know what I know, and I know that Christopher is no pansy. He's totally a testosterone fueled man's man. However, when this bird commenced to kicking his ass from behind (literally), he didn't waste any manly man time getting away from him and he was mad as an old red hen about it! I'm not going to sit here and pretend that I wasn't slightly amused by this random act of chicken violence, because I was. And I was even more so amused when Christopher later described his dose of poetic justice as feeling like "he was punched in the back of the leg 6 times by a grown man". And I think I laughed a little more the next day when he discovered that the back of his leg was bruised from his thigh down. But enough about that. :)

Now we have this bird, that is exactly the bird I didn't want to have. You know, the one you have to keep an eye out for, that prevents you from feeling comfortable in your own yard, that forces you stay in your car in the driveway until it goes away, that makes it absolutely necessary for you to carry a push broom as a defense mechanism anytime you must enter the coop or his personal space? Yeah, that's the bird...and we call him Raymond.

We've had this honey badger something something Delaware rooster Raymond for two weeks now, and he continues to give Christopher a run for his money....or at least a run for his trusty push broom! Although the big sketchy bird terrifies me, I do find comfort in knowing that while Christopher is testing and/or challenging me on a daily basis, Rooster Raymond is behind him testing and/or challenging him right back! I will not say I told you so because Raymond hasn't got a hold of me yet...but I sure will sit back and enjoy the chicken karma as the chicken whisperer gets what is coming to him.

...and with any luck, these wicked chickens won't start laying deviled eggs. :)