I remember – and it’s almost becoming a fond memory – last winter when Roo was feeling so poorly.  He was very lame, hardly able to get around.  We checked him for bumblefoot.  No signs of that.  There was nothing visual to account for his lameness, and we thought maybe he had some kind of super arthritis, despite his young age.  Really we had no clue.  It was actually his problem that first got us thinking about trying to raise some more chicks so that we could keep another rooster, just in case.  The tricky part was that we really hoped Roo could be the dad, and it wasn’t looking promising.

When spring came, Roo started to feel better.  (Doesn’t it work that way for ALL of us?)  When we heard him finally crow again, both Scott and I were so happy.  I’m talking ear-to-ear grins, if you can believe it!  We were just overjoyed to think he was feeling better.  So we isolated him and the blue hen and the other mille fleur (which is what he is) to a smaller coop.  He continued to recuperate until finally he was not only crowing a LOT, but also doing “the deed” with both hens.  At that point I started to save the eggs and the rest is now history.  The 14 results are beauties…


But, as I began this story, I said I almost remember his lameness fondly, because he has now become a BEAST.  The 7 hens and Roo are now in the coop which has been doubled in size.  They are still awaiting their outside yard, which is going to be tripling their former outside area, but have plenty of room in the coop.  This morning I went out to toss them some scratch feed in the coop and to check their water.  I opened the side door, and Roo came charging up to the opening with THAT LOOK.  If you’ve ever had a feisty roo, you know that look.  He started stomping his feet and acting like a loon.  I made a great show of swinging my arm in his general direction, but he held his ground.  He either knows I’m bluffing or he figures he can take me.

I wanted to open the big window in the coop and couldn’t reach the latch, so shut the door and went back to the workshop for a step-stool.  When I again opened the door to the coop, there was Mr. Ferocious again, stomping around.  “HEY, I’M WATCHING YOU!” I shouted, again waving my arms around like a crazy woman.  He cocked his head at me and stomped his feathery feet again, clearly not intimidated in the least.

Maybe if he could be just a little lame again…