I love your chicken stories; the way you tell them is great, not just the events. The last one I ran across, you were struggling because your rooster wanted to be held but you got some back pain.
I can even picture the whole thing:
Bantam rooster: “I wanted lovin’ and adventure. At least I got some adventure! And food.”
Bantam hen: “Oh no. Oh no no no. I know that creepo. I don’t know what he’s doing here but I’ll be chilling away from him.”
Marans hen: “…eeeew.” [inserts long rant on how the Bantam rooster sucks.]
Your rooster: “MISSION ACCOMPLISHED! INVADER DEFEATED! I’M THE KING OF THE PLACE! Eh, who cares about chickens, my true waifu is the crocs.”
I don’t know if you’ve ever seen a big chicken running full out, but if you haven’t, you gotta hit YouTube and see it. I’d try and film it, but the jumping part makes it difficult, and I’m kinda paranoid about showing my house and yard anyway.
I’ve seen it a few times in my childhood - got some relatives in the countryside. They raised mostly pigs, but they also got a dozen free range chickens for their own consumption. My cousin would ring a bell every time before feeding them, so when they heard that bell they would go ballistics towards the house.
I love your chicken stories; the way you tell them is great, not just the events. The last one I ran across, you were struggling because your rooster wanted to be held but you got some back pain.
I can even picture the whole thing:
I’ve seen it a few times in my childhood - got some relatives in the countryside. They raised mostly pigs, but they also got a dozen free range chickens for their own consumption. My cousin would ring a bell every time before feeding them, so when they heard that bell they would go ballistics towards the house.
Oh man, I think you nailed the personalities lol
I’m glad you’ve experienced the ludicrous joy of chickens running. It is a singular thing to see.