Maybe We Should Have Gone With Pat

I became a chicken lady this year. We have had chickens for several years but they were not MY chickens. My daughter had some and we enjoyed the eggs and my father in law had some that my daughter’s chickens shared a pen with. Early this year one of the two areas our primary egg chickens were in was decimated by a mysterious predator that took out almost all of the population. When the time came to order to chicks to try to replenish the weakened flock my husband asked if I would like to get some of my own. Of course who would want plain brown or white eggs when you could have blue ones?! So my request was for Ameracuna chicks and the order was placed. A few weeks later a chirping box arrived with lots of little fluff balls in it and I was officially converted to a crazy chicken lady!

I don’t remember what the original count was but I had 8 or 9 Ameracunas and there were about 25 Rhode Island and New Hampshire reds. The breeder also sends one “mystery” chick with the order. This is where Roulette comes in.

Named for a roulette wheel because we just didn’t know exactly what we would be getting, male or female, as well as breed. (Looking back now at all the ambiguity with Roulette, I can’t help but be reminded of the old Saturday Night Live skit about Pat.)  As the chicks grew and developed, the mystery one became more and more evident. Once my 6 surviving Ameracunas were big enough, we moved them and Roulette to the Manor my husband had so kindly had constructed for me while they were in the grow-out pen.

Roulette is the bossy one on top of the water container. 

Little Roulette was still a mystery, not just in breed but also in gender. Developing a commanding demeanor and a “fluffy butt”; bossy like a cockrel but filling out like a pullet, it was even more challenging. Finally we decided we would have to wait for a crow or an egg to make the call.

Ultimately, the decision was made to relocate Roulette to another pen when it and the Ameracuna cockrel became more and more aggressive to each other. I still was not convinced of the gender. After a couple of days in the temporary enclosure with another pullet chick, Roulette seemed to be adjusting well.

As I was leaving for work one morning, I stopped to check in and was saluted with a strangled but definite crow. I guess we have a cockrel. Now that he has been separated for a little over a week he is already filling out to be a huge and gorgeous rooster. I still have no definite determination on breed although Wyandotte seems most likely, or some mixture.

I wonder when the next order for chicks are going in. He will need some pullets and hens to protect now. I think I need to look over that catalog. Should I get some Buff Orphingtons or some Copper Marans? Oh decisions, decisions! Nah, I’ll just get both.