This is my first sumer with chickens, so I've been nervous. I read to0 many internet articles about chickens keeling over in the heat. As usual, I worried for nothing. My chickens behave marvelously in the heat. They don't keel over, but they are too hot to move for good parts of the day. They sit calmly on my front porch, watching the world. They pant at me when I peek out my office window at them. You may wonder why that is so marvelous, but it is - it is FAN-hot stuff -TASTIC!
You see, before the heat hit, I was dealing with a rooster predicament. Apparently, this is a common chicken rookie mistake - one too many roosters in the hen house. But, of course, I am The Chicken Lawyer, so I have FOUR too many roosters in the hen house! The little turds. Don't get me wrong, I love my roos - they have the MOST personality, they would lay down their lives for my hens, and they just crack me up. Saving up their treats for their ladies, trying to earn some love. I even like when they crow. Even at 5:30AM. Even at 6AM. Ok, it gets a little old around 2PM, but I can live with it.
What I cannot live with are the Rooster wars. I have 2 banty roosters. Angel (above) is tiny, but he does not know it. Not one bit. He is my little big man. Dru (below) is my Dru-devil. He is 1/2 the size of a full size bird. He does not know it. He knows he's bigger than Angel, and Angel's not little, so he must be HUGE. Chicken logic.
I also have Anya & Xander (further below). Yes, Anya is a not a good name for a rooster, but I was really hoping to talk him into being a hen. Anya is a normal full size barred rock rooster. Xander happens to be huge. They do not know it. They think they are teeny weeny when Dru-devil is around. Dru will take them on any time, any place, regardless of whether his little side kick Angel is around. Angel is a little like Speedy Gonzales egging Dru on to de-feather all my barred rocks. He also likes to mutter at Xander and flip out his right wing at Anya. Until the little big man trips on it...
Until this week. This week was hot. Too hot for segregation apparently.
The heat brought me a miracle. The chicken tribes are mixing!
"Tough Faith was like Rosa Parks: "I will NOT sit in back with the cedars! I will sit and poop on The Chicken Lawyer's Front Porch like the rest of you, so move over." (That is really brave by the way. They don't even move over for me when I try to enjoy my coffee on the front porch.)
I feared Watt's riots would break out at any minute most of the week. I nervously peeked out my office window many times. I left the door open, so I could hear when hell broke loose. I closed my door when I realized my clients could hear Angel crowing on my teleconferences. I posted on my facebook support group for local Missouri crazy chicken people, "Show Me Your Chicken" about breaking up bad roos.
But, once again, I worry too much. It's too hot to fight. There are spots on the porch that have yet to be pooped on. There's a frantic Chicken Lawyer to watch through the office window. All is well. I love the heat. I love my chickens.