Our rooster is named Daisy. We thought he was a hen like the other chicks. But slowly we started noticing he was growing a comb and wattles. Then he started making a funny noise; it sounded like a really bad horn. Then we knew he was a rooster.
Our grandfather, Hickory, wanted us to change his name to Davey. But he was already Daisy to us. Now we just call him Daisy Roo.
2 comments:
Hey Blossom, when we first got chickens we had a rooster, too. I rather enjoyed hearing his call in the morning after only reading about crowing roosters in books. But that was all I enjoyed. He was not a very nice fellow. We didn't like how he pestered and pecked the poor hens. And we really didn't like how he went after us! We gave him away to a man with two daughters. We thoroughly warned him of the dangers but he still wanted the rooster. After the rooster attacked his girls, he killed it. End of rooster story. Right now we've got about twenty hens. They are Dominiques - the breed we've heard is America's earliest chicken breed. They are wonderful, hardy chickens. Because we are vegetarians, they live until they die a natural death. Right now we are getting about a dozen eggs a day.
Wow! A dozen eggs a day. We only get four or five. Today Fern and I actually saw an egg come out of a chicken. Our rooster is mostly nice, but he does chase our bikes and our wagon. And he tries to kill basketballs and helmets.
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