In Which Glenda Becomes Glen

Betrayal! Of the four little chicks I picked up this spring, two are roosters! And here I thought chicken sexing was 90% accurate. I want to be a chicken sexer; obviously it just involves pretending to work and making arbitrary decisions, something I excel at. Perhaps there is even on-the-job drinking.

Glen/Glenda and the neutrally-monikered Snowy started crowing as soon as school break started, and I was sleeping later and didn’t realize it. Mr. Husband told me last week that he thought they were crowing in the morning, but I thought he was tripping. He also said that they were having face-offs in which they were apparently fronting on each other and bumping chests. Sometimes I get so busy I don’t even know what’s going on around here.

So now I have two choices: I can eat them or I can give them away. I am more inclined to do the latter. Anybody want a couple of healthy roosters?

15 thoughts on “In Which Glenda Becomes Glen

  1. Sounds like my friend’s cat Max. Or shall i say Maxine? You’d think the animal shelter would be a bit better at that sexing thing…

  2. but chicken is such a tasty treat… hehe. and home grown, no less!

    i would put an ad in the paper, Chooks Free To Good Home. Then see what crackpots show up :)

  3. A long time ago, we had chicks. Two male, two female. One of the males (the stronger, I assume) became the rooster and the other one turned into a hen. We ate the rooster because he was too loud and the neighbors were complaining. Then one of the hens stopped laying eggs and became a rooster.

  4. Oh, Dude. I jinxed you by calling one of your chicks “the rooster” this spring.

  5. We had that happen with our first cat. We were trying to get a female Siamese. Got home with a male. Mrs. Wife (ha!) freaked out and wanted to take him back. I was too attached at that point. So, he went from being Sabrina to Archie, and our second>/i> cat became Sabrina.

    Y’know, the Red Stripe made that story more interesting in my head.

  6. Omigod!! You didn’t tell me there were TWO!!! I thought you only had one rooster, and I was the only girl in urban Seattle with two desperately-in-need-of-dispatching roosters! Cheers! May your luck be as fruitful as mine.

    (Should I ask my friend if her co-worker wants two more roosters?) he he he…

  7. When I adopted my rabbit from the SPCA he had just been returned by a woman who was told he was female, but discovered the opposite. On his previous adoption papers I noticed the comment, “no ovaries found.” That explained his shaved belly and incision scar – poor guy.

  8. Of course I’d take them– but then I’d just eat them. Six of one, half dozen of the other.
    So to speak.
    If it were me, I’d take them up to Woodland Park and throw them over the fence into the zoo. They’ve got chickens running loose in there. The birds seem to have plenty to eat, and I don’t imagine one or two more would make any difference.

  9. Joshua’s got a good point. After all, Zoos (plural of zoo?) are where you are supposed to keep animals ;)

  10. HAAAY! Svarit and Joshua, for shame! ;) This is the zoo.

    Mr. Husband is all ready sharpening his hatchet.

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