A couple of weeks ago my husband and I were sitting outside, enjoying the spring air and watching the kids play with the dog. The chickens were in their coop for the evening, and I was enjoying listening to the sweet chicken noises emanating from their cozy little corner of the yard when suddenly...
"Honey, what was that noise?"
"I think it was a chicken."
"Chickens don't make that kind of noise."
"But I don't have a rooster. I got pullets. Maybe it's Miss Tweets. Maybe she makes different noises because she's a different variety of chicken?"
"Yeah... the rooster variety."
Sigh. Sadly, there's no denying it. Miss Tweets is undeniably crowing, odd though it may sound.
In looking at
But he's always looked So Different from the other chickens anyway, we just assumed it was his breed.
But no... no. That's definitely the sound of a young rooster practicing his crow. He's tremendous fun. If we crow at him, he often crows back. I can't tell you the enjoyment I get out of listening to my children running around the yard crowing - in addition to the rooster. I'm sure the neighbors love it just as much.
We're going to try to keep him. There's something cozy about waking up to a rooster crowing in the morning, even though we live in the city. I'm not entirely sure all the neighbors feel the same way, but the ones we've talked to don't mind him. And the ones behind us? Well, if they're going to spray my garden with Roundup, they deserve to be woken up at five thirty every morning by the sound of a juvenile squawking rooster.