Animals

Milford Makes A Move

Cattywhompus.

Discombobulated.

(Off-kilter, odd, disorderly, not quite right, bizarre)

Both of these are fun words, and words that I don't have to use much

(thankfully) with regards to the farm.

Today, however, they are the perfect descriptors for the Roos.

You see....

two weeks ago I moved the newest hens from the brooder house by our log home

(almost a quarter mile away) to the henhouse out by the goats.

The seven roosters that happened to have been shipped (as peeps) with these gals

remained behind.

Two of them found a new home, leaving 5 "spare" roos.

(Meet Milford, Milroy, Milton, Millard and George.)

This is standard procedure whenever I raise new hens...

eventually the girls join the other flocks of layers,

and the boys remain behind.

Too many roosters stresses the hens,

and creates tension between the roos.

Ugly.

Just plain ugly.

So, the system that I have come up with seems to work best for us.

But, I have digressed, so let's get back to our story.

Five new roosters remain in the brooder house,

which is right next door to the little house where Statler and Waldorf live.

(Oh, and I have a Waldorf story for you...but that will have to wait 'til this "tail" is finished.)

So, let's pick up our story where we left off last week.

As of last week, the new roosters had not left their house...

for fear of Statler and Waldorf.

Early the other morning, I opened the door to the brooder house

and found that I was one rooster short.

Milford, one of the lovely white Red Star roos, had gone AWOL!

And the other four (Milton, Millard, Milroy and George) were not talking!

Well, you can imagine my surprise when I opened the

door to Statler and Waldorf's house and found not only those two grumpy old men...

but also one of the new roosters!

I have no idea what precipitated this move.

Perhaps, while the old guys were out running around,

young Milford, here, checked out their coop (curiosity got the best of him.)

I am guessing they came home while he was casing the joint and he hid in the corner.

Nightfall came...and what was he to do?

Sit there "vewy, vewy quietwy!", I suppose.

Or perhaps there was a squabble amongst the new roosters and

young Milford was asked (very kindly, I'm sure) to leave.

It was a hasty exit, though, because (as you can see) he forgot to pack his stuff!

Whatever the reason,

Milford moved.

And it seemed he was not interested in returning to his young compadres.

Perhaps he is wise beyond his years, and the others seem too adolescent.

Perhaps he enjoys the company of two seasoned, experienced gentlemen with fantastic

stories to tell.

Who knows.

All I know, is this.

My roosters are all discombobulated.

(Oh, and I tried returning Milford to his brothers...

but he would have nothing to do with them and quickly ran back to the home

of Statler and Waldorf.)

So, there you have it.

It's a mystery.

And I am sure that this story is only just beginning to unfold.

Stay tuned!

I promised you a "tail" about Waldorf....

Well, ever since our Fourth of July celebration, he is tail-less.

Yes, here he is... "butt naked"!

One of the kids' friends brought their dog (who had never seen a chicken before) to the farm.
Before we knew it, the dog was on top of Waldorf with tail feathers in his mouth.

It was a very close call for Waldorf.

In the "end" it is mostly his pride that is injured.

And thankfully it is not winter,

so we don't have to worry about "frost butt"!

Poor Waldorf.

There is nothing pretty about a naked chicken butt.

Perhaps I should make him a prosthesis.

Any suggestions?

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