A Tale of Two Roosters: Part One, A Separate Peace.

A Tale of Two Roosters: Part One, A Separate Peace

Now that we had two rooster, a new political landscape needed to develop in the confines of the chicken run. Herself and I had read and experienced the stories of others with multiple roosters and were calculating all of the possible scenarios.

Harkening back to my fading childhood memories, our old rooster Romeo, a Rhode Island Red of great dignity and leadership skills, was a stoic character who was normally disinclined to fight. It should be noted that the circumstances of the chickens my family had in my youth were slightly different. We had more property, more hens, and more time and space for that flock to roam and forage to their hearts’ delight. Also we had more trouble with predators, so everything in life is some kind of trade off in one way or another.

In those days, when chicks were born, my parents would let them be and integrate into the flock naturally. There were more hens … enough to keep a rooster busy. I do recall one occasion when a rooster was born and he came of age. I don’t recall trouble with the two roosters fighting and thus they coexisted. Until the day my parents realized that the new rooster had developed a ‘sub flock’ of himself and a few hens. This is also natural and not an issue except that while Romeo would dutifully lead the hens into the coop and to their roosts at night when the sun was setting, the young rooster-come-lately would lead his sub flock to the lower branches of the trees at the edge of the forest. This is the least safe place for chickens to be in a world of raccoons, foxes, weasels, stray dogs, and all manner of other dangers to be. My parents culled that rooster very quickly and the political divide was no more.

In these modern times where I am a fully adult person (don’t laugh, legally and physically, I am), I had researched proper ‘chicken math’ and understood the ratio of one rooster for about a dozen hens is the right mix. Here we had TWO roosters only seven hens between them. Although this could be a problem, herself and I considered every anecdote we had read and seen to help guide us through the near future.

Two bachelor roosters. There is a roadside farm stand along the highway about a dozen or so miles from us owned by a kindly old Italian gentleman who really knows his way around produce. One day when we stopped there (before we had obtained any chickens, but we had already been considering it) we noticed that he had two fully grown roosters right there near the entrance. They were loose. They were hunkered down by the shrubbery as content as could be without causing a moment’s concern for anyone. We asked the proprietor about the curious circumstance and he explained that although he does not keep any poultry on his farm, his brother had encountered these two ‘spare’ roosters that were due to be culled. Spare roosters are as welcome as the plague, because normally they only cause trouble, but in a moment of sympathy, this man’s brother collected the doomed roosters and he had agreed to ‘adopt’ them for so long as they caused him no trouble. The two roosters, with no one but each other for company, were fast friends and lived quiet peacefully by the farm stand. But … this should be made very clear … there were no hens for them to compete over!

We had checked in with other poultry keepers and discovered three main themes.

1)      The sub flock. This is a scenario that harkens to the situation I described from my youth. More than one rooster is OKAY provided that you have enough hens to avoid too much trouble. While the roosters may have the occasional dust-up over political affairs, the dominant one will keep watch over the main flock while the other(s) will develop smaller ‘sub flocks’. This, of course, would be the best scenario, but with so few hens and no room to properly have many more, we felt it was very unlikely to turn out this way.

2)      The submissive rooster. This was the scenario we were hoping for if the first could not be achieved. The dominant rooster runs the flock. A few initial fights and the other rooster(s) capitulate to the superior rooster. Peace is obtained, but only the dominant rooster has breeding rights while the other rooster(s) maintain a quiet existence on the outskirts of the flock.

3)      Cull the extra rooster(s). Some will cull the extra roosters as soon as they realize they are roosters, carefully sexed while still chicks, or raised separately for the table to be butchered when they are just about old enough for their first crow. Occasionally, if the older rooster is now past his prime, he’ll be culled, but by then the meat is too tough and is only suitable for soup stock. I had even read on forum poster who explained that when extra roosters were born, they would cull the gentle, easy going roosters and keep the angry, aggressive roosters because they were much better suited for warding off predators.

We decided to wait and see. Here’s how it went.

Initially, Coq Au would chase Floki a bit and ‘explain’ to the lad that he was the dominant rooster and that Floki had better get used to that idea. Coq Au was never overly cruel, but firm and fair in exercising his understanding of control. Floki would run a bit of a distance away, and would longingly watch the doings of the flock from the outskirts. Herself and I were starting to be concerned that our little boy would not have a quality of life and began considering trying to adopt him out to someone with hens, but no rooster. But, so long as there was no bloodshed, we were reasonably content with the notion that even the life of a submissive rooster would be a good life.

In those days of Floki’s early adulthood, I began to notice a strange but encouraging dynamic developing. Even with so few hens, and Coq Au being so good at keeping a watchful eye, there would always be a girl or two that would wander off to seek their own foraging in a different part of our small yard. Coq Au would usually keep company with the larger part of the flock and round up stray girls when necessary. But now, with an additional rooster, Floki would keep the watch with the stray girls. Perhaps, I thought, a sub flock was possible in this micro environment, even with the bad chicken math.

Another strange occurrence was happening around that time. Whenever I would collect the flock to go into the run, Coq Au would invariably take up the rear, just in front of me, but behind the girls to help collect them … while at the same time, squaring off with me if he thought I somehow became aggressive. But with this new situation, Floki would lead the parade of hens. Taking the point position, they would follow him while Coq Au made sure all was well from the rear. Our two roosters were actually creating a cooperative effort in flock management.

One day, as I was standing on my porch, with the flock about ten feet away in the sun, some small bird of prey – a cooper’s hawk, I think – swept down out of nowhere. This hawk was too small to carry off a hen, but could’ve caused some real damage. Hens went fleeing in all directions for the cover of shrubbery and the like, but Coq Au Vin, full of roosterly aggression LEAPT into the air in an attempt to get to grips with the offender who was full on the wing. Floki ALSO made a half hearted youthful attempt to get to grips with the hawk. Coq Au may have even landed a talon on the invader, it was that close. The hawk flew off and the roosters and I went about the business of collecting the hens and soothing shattered nerves. We paraded back into the run after that.

This should be made clear. The events of the hawk happened within the span of an instant in time. It was the damnedest thing I had ever seen, and although I am glad to have been on hand at the right moment to assist, my slow human reaction was no match for my two roosters! Medals were awarded and full military honors given.

On a side note, I am not handy with a camera, that’s why I have so few pictures on the blog. I do not have a good picture of Floki, but Floki grew up to become an Adonis in rooster form. He stood tall, well proportioned, and looked like the original model for every weather vane ever produced. To be fair, Coq Au, although not as tall, is also a magnificent looking creature and more barrel chested. From the few photos, you can see he is a powerful beast, indeed.

As the weeks passed, however, things began to take a turn. By and by in subtle degrees. I first noticed that Floki, when watching the stray girls, would try to get ‘the sex’ on the sneak. He was NOT accustomed to doing a proper mating dance and had NOT learned how to be a proper, gentle lover the way Coq Au had become. A hen would often squawk and spurn his advances causing Coq Au to immediately charge over to put an end to the situation toot sweet. Floki would keep trying, however and this was causing some friction.

It is the habit of chickens to go into the coop at night as the sun sets. Sometimes, pecking order plays a part, sometimes not, but they generally filter in one by one until one or two hens are left in the hard. As the sky darkens, they make their way in as well. The usual circumstance is for Coq Au to go in first (I consider it likely that this is because after the stresses of watching the flock all day and listening to the incessant chatter of the hens about union meetings, egg quotas, gossip about broody-ness and what not, he’s had quite enough and is content to turn in). Hortense is invariably the last to go in. As I’ve described ad nauseam, she is not at the bottom of the pecking order and has no political issues, she mearly regards her alone time as sacred and enjoys a few moments peace for herself. But the new trend was for Coq Au and Floki to be out after the girls (including Hortense) have gone in. They would be arguing. A back and forth squabble of roosterly squawking would occur. It really did sound like a heated conversation. One that reminded me of an old anti-drug PSA of a father confronting a son about drug use, but in our context, the conversation went more like this:

Coq Au: You were trying to have sex again with one of your aunts. What’s wrong with you? Where did you learn that tape of behavior? ANSWER ME!

Floki: I learned it by watching YOU, dad. I learned it by watching you!

Things began to come to a head one Saturday while I was out with the hose cleaning the chicken fonts and providing fresh water. Both roosters squared off directly, only Floki was NOT inclined to back down. Cowls were fully flared and they came to blows. A goodly blast from the hose calmed them down. The troubling part of this was that Floki was no longer content to be chided, he would need to test his meddle directly in pitched battle.

I set about the business of attempting to find a suitable home for Floki. Extra roosters are next to impossible to adopt out, so I was still hoping that they would resolve the issue between themselves without resorting to bloodshed. Hopefully, one good battle would be all it took for one rooster to prevail and one to learn to be content with his place in the world.