The Brave Boys.

With the acute realization that our two baby chicks have grown into roosters in spite of the careful inspection we tried, my wife and I have come to the hard decision.

Here is Marvin and Bubba. Notice how tall they’ve gotten and how their tails are coming in!
 

They are young, but already Marvin has been trying to mount his aunts MUCH to their loud displeasure. Bubba is already larger than the hens, though not to the size of Coq Au. Coq Au has been gently chiding them to assert his authority and to make sure they understand their place. As with Floki, he does not torture these young lads, merely disciplines them for the peace and comfort of the hens and so that they will understand their place. But I know will come a day when they are too large, and he being over three and a half now, he’s no youngin’.

Here’s Coq Au (right) with Bubba in the shot (left), and Marvin laying down dusting himself.

So, we can’t keep them in the flock. My wife and I talked about this and what is to be done. We’ve decided that this year, instead of turkey for Thanksgiving, it will have to be our brave boys. I am not looking forward to the task, and yet, I can think of no better way to honor their lives than to nourish ourselves and the more extended kin in such a way on such an occasion.

Every year Thanksgiving is an ‘animal sacrifice’. A person works hard for their livelihood, resources spent on caring for the family, and there is a sacrifice. Usually the sacrifice is a turkey. The bird is slain, butchered, carefully prepared, presented, and prayed over while each of us muses over what is gained and what is lost.

Of all of the holidays, Thanksgiving is my favorite. You don’t need weird costumes or ugly sweaters. You don’t need a stack of greeting cards. You don’t need an endless array of candy. You don’t need to drink yourself into oblivion. You don’t need to buy a bunch of gifts that the receivers probably didn’t need in the first place. You don’t need lights. You don’t need inflatable lawn ornaments. You don’t need music that you would never otherwise listen to.

All you need is a decent meal and loved ones to share it with, coupled with the conscious thought of the gratitude for everything that you do have.

I could buy a turkey, as so many years before, and the hard part of the sacrifice would rest once again in the hands of someone at some unknown slaughterhouse, but this thanksgiving will be of our own flock by our own hands and we will nourish our kith and kin from it. The contemplation of this will make it a particularly bittersweet Thanksgiving, but their lives will be especially honored more than any frozen turkey would ever be. There is also some comfort in knowing that THESE birds, unlike mass produced poultry, were hatched by their mother, raised in the company of their flock, and spent their days with the open sky above them and the grass under their feet.

Never the less, it raised the question between herself and I whether or not to allow our hens to hatch again if they are inclined. The flock is aging and we will want new life to fill our little coop, and I suggested that in the spring I will obtain a few SEXED pullets. Maybe buff orpingtons or rhode island reds. My wife was distraught to think that it may mean that we no longer allow our hens to follow their natural inclinations of motherhood. I mentioned that if we do so, it very well would mean more roosters and very likely the possibility of having to butcher one again. Herself is not happy about that thought, but considers it as much of a part of long term chicken raising as I do and part of the circle as well.

So, we decided (for now) that this spring we will see if the hens are inclined to hatch again, and if not, then we will seek to buy sexed chickens.

At some point, I know Coq Au will be too old to do his job in that department and we’ll need a replacement rooster as well, but just contemplating that would break my heart. I’ve come to love that angry old bastard and so has herself. Most likely, he will live out his natural life, however long that may be, before we even consider a new rooster. Our hens are ageing as well, and egg laying has already slowed down for the season. But they, like Coq Au will live out their natural lives whether they keep laying or not!

So, after all of these gut wrenching musings, I give you a picture of Lily!

Here she is insisting that she does NOT want the mealworms that I’ve cast about on the ground for the flock to scratch at … she’d MUCH rather have them direct from my own hand, thank you very much. The white spots that you see on her head are the last of the new feather coming in. Everyone is sporting their new coats of feathers and just about ready for the coming winter.