Coq Au Vin - The Romantic; And Our First Egg.

Coq Au Vin – the romantic and our first egg

As they grew through that summer an into fall we began to notice how Coq Au was beginning to ‘Rooster’ and saw that it was (mostly) good.

There comes a time in every young man’s life that he ‘notices’ girls in a very different way. So too did that time come for our little Coq Au. The first real evidence of this was while hand feeding him treats, he gently picked up a tasty bread crumb from my hand and did NOT eat it! He lifted his head up straight and proud and ‘twirred’ I guess you’d call it. The sound is something like a cross between the coo of a dove with a bit of chicken-like baritone and a little more vibrato. He made this noise to call over one of the hens and he gave the bread crumb to her! He still does this to this day, whether it is a bread crumb (his favorite) a mealworms, a bug, or a blueberry stolen from the neighbor’s bush. My wife and I positively gushed with how sweet he is and how he puts the hens first! That is also still true to this day.

Around this time came what could not be mistaken for anything else but a mating dance. He began to dance. Whenever he was feeling enamorously infatuated with a particular hen, he would stiffen one leg rigid and dance in a circle on it around the hen. The mating commenced immediately after whether she was particularly inclined or not!

Naturally, this shocked herself and I a little, but hey, I had memories of this with our chickens growing up, so we got over it quickly. The hens took a little more time to get used to it … after all they were still new at this whole thing too! When poor little Hortense was mounted for the first time she fainted. That isn’t hyperbole … he mounted her, soon dislodged himself, and she just sat there. My wife and I rushed over fearing she was injured and she was limp and seemingly lifeless when we picked her up, but she quickly snapped out of it and came around. Who knew that chickens could faint???? She sat quietly on my lap for a bit until she recovered herself, a few special treats for her and off she went.

Hermione … on the other hand …

Hermione was growing to be our smallest hen, yet within the world of chicken politics, she was decidedly the alpha! She would pick on girls larger than her if they got in her way. Once everyone got the idea of this whole mating business she would literally squat in front of himself and present her bottom in what I could only guess would be a pornographic way in the world of chickens. What’s more, if he took an interest in mating with another girl, she would attempt to rush in and chase her away!

In those early days, he was so intent (like newly minted young men are) on mating as often as possible. It got to the point where when we’d open the little peep door in the early morning to let them out of the coop, he’d rush out first and the hens would remain hesitantly inside. They knew the first girl out of the door was in for a rape. They would draw straws, debate, conduct a short union meeting, take a vote, then ultimately push one of the hens out. While he was distracted, the others would rush out and perch on the relative safety of the old outside chair where they could continue the morning union meeting in peace.

Now, the correct ration for hens to roosters is about one rooster for a dozen hens. We had seven hens, so we weren’t too far off of the mark. There are good reasons to own a rooster for the health and safety of your flock, but if you only have … say … two hens … do not get a rooster! They will wear those poor girls out ‘knocking the bottom out of it’ at every opportunity! After a time, we noticed that several of his ‘favorite’ girls were ‘over-mated’. Meaning, he had rubbed the feathers off of their backs and continued until the flesh under was a little raw. In summer, they even became a little sunburned. Here is a photo, zoom in on the girls, those are bald patches!

 

Some corn starch on their backs helped ease their pain and in spite of my misgivings, my wife ordered ‘chicken saddles’ which, apparently, are a real thing! See this picture of some of the girls sporting their new saddles.

 

Apart from his sexual misconduct, Coq Au was also becoming a good leader in the real sense of the word. Chickens spend a lot of time gazing at the ground in an endless search for tasty morsels. Roosters do not. Coq Au has missed many a treat tossed SPECIFICALLY in his direction because he’s too slow to react about things on the ground and even if the bread crumb bounced off his chest, and he bends down to retrieve it, a fast hen from some distance away would RUSH over and gain the prize in a mere instant before his beak could connect with the object of his hunger.

But he’s built that way. He’s meant to keep his head up. He’s watching the surroundings so his girls can eat in peace. Many times he would growl when a dark shape loomed over head which served well to alert me of a predator taking wing on high long before I had seen it myself. If I wasn’t immediately at hand, he would lead the girls to the safety of tree cover or the run.

He would also corral the girls to keep an eye on them. More than once I witnessed my wife spot a girl that had strayed away. She would sharply call his name “COQ AU!” he’d look at her directly with his full attention and squawk once or twice … she’d follow with “Where’s the girl?”, to which he’d look around and squawk again. Then she’d point in the hen’s direction and state pointedly “Go get the girl, Coq Au, go get the girl!” He would then invariably march off on that direction and scold that hen the whole way back to the flock!

With the girls and the rooster now just about fully grown, we were desperate to look in the nesting boxes to find our first egg. Each morning we would interrupt the union meeting to explain the situation and that upper management was becoming increasingly concerned over the lack-of-egg issue. The hens’ union rep ensured us that work would be on schedule and not one minute before regardless of the pressure of top brass!

Then ... one fine day late in August, it happened! Our first egg! Tiny it was. Perfectly formed. I waited for my wife to get home just so I could show it to her! There were special treats all around and praise for the hens, the union rep, and even for Coq Au! We fried this tiny egg and each had a small forkful. I remember well the taste of farm fresh eggs from well cared for hens and though small, the half I ate was not a disappointment. For my wife, this was a first experience and she was profoundly affected by how different and wonderful it was compared to the usual eggs one gets at the store.

 

Yes, we were well satisfied with our little flock. We figured the bliss of this moment would go on forever … but it was not to be … there were still more changes to come.