Day 50: Meet Meat
Meaty is our resident rooster. Despite his rather prophetic-sounding name, he lives a life of relative safety here with us.
Meaty was not meant to be a rooster. He was part of our original flock we started four years ago. Chicken sexing, not being an exact science, is only 90% accurate the man at the feed store warned me.
I bought 10 chicks; one grew up to be a rooster.
I didn't really want a rooster. Chickens don't need a rooster to lay eggs, and since everyone here needs to have a job a rooster would be a waste of feed.
He actually started off as my daughter's special chick. When he was still a tiny ball of peep and fluff, he would sleep on her lap. She carried him everywhere. At this point, he was still a she, and went by the name of Speckles. When darling Speck started growing long tail feathers and chasing the hens, we realized our mistake.
Despite myself, I think Meaty is a pretty cool bird. While the testosterone gets the better of him sometimes, causing him to chase unsuspecting visitors around the yard (okay, I think that's cool, too) he is fairly laid back for a rooster.
His crows make the place feel like a real farm, and roosters crow a lot. Not just in the morning, either. It's an all day event. I enjoy sitting at my desk and hearing him call across the yard.
And it's nice to have the option of hatching our own chicks to expand the flock. Who knows, maybe one day there will be little Meatlets running around?