It's been a bit of a run of bad luck over here with the chickens lately, unfortunately. After my first chick order arrived mostly DOA, the seller sent another order, and they were all DOA. I decided to just count my losses and give up (and I got USPS to refund my shipping, at least). However, a blown heat bulb caused the death of two of my home hatched ayam cemani chicks - they were culls, but it's still never nice to lose a chick. A heat plate brooder is on my Christmas wish list to avoid blown bulbs in the future. If I like it, I may even get a second one. Then, the only chick that hatched from this batch of eggs that was a keeper had some kind of digestive issue and was pooping pure egg yolk without digesting it. It ended up passing away.
After all this, I was determined to turn over a new leaf, starting with getting all the chickens sleeping in the coop. I have had them sleeping everywhere - some sleeping on top of the grow out run, some on top of the cemani coop, and, most vexingly, two of my three adult free range roosters were sleeping on the deck railing each night - and crowing about it. This had to stop.
I had tried moving them into the coop at night - didn't work, each night they still started off on the railing and had to be moved. I tried locking them in the run - nope again, somehow these big roosters were flying out and going to the railing. So my last option was to lock them - and everyone else too - in the coop for at least three days and nights to get them used to sleeping in there. So I did just that. I filled up a waterer with five gallons and a feeder with thirty pounds of feed and locked everybody in. At night I snuck in there to top everything off when they were sleeping.
On Sunday, after the last night of being locked up, I went out to release everyone. I threw some treats down in the run and popped open the chicken pop door. The birds came streaming out. I walked into the coop to grab the feeder and waterer and move them back to their regular places in the run when something caught my eye.
It was my gorgeous rooster, Tesoro, the last son out of my first flock rooster, Honey, who passed away last winter. Tess hatched from a big white leghorn egg I just randomly decided to toss into the incubator. A week later, his father died. But the egg hatched, and Tesoro became slated for the role of future flock leader. He was an interesting chick, a soft buff color, and I noticed at one point that he had barring on his wings. That's actually when I first found out he was a cockerel - his leghorn mother apparently carries barring, and so he was technically a black sex link.
As he grew, he developed beautiful plumage. He was buff on most of his body, but different shades, and he had a white tail. You could just make out his barring on his primaries and it was most apparent in his saddle and his tail. He inherited the big single comb from his leghorn mother. He filled out nicely and had the size of an orpington.
After all this, I was determined to turn over a new leaf, starting with getting all the chickens sleeping in the coop. I have had them sleeping everywhere - some sleeping on top of the grow out run, some on top of the cemani coop, and, most vexingly, two of my three adult free range roosters were sleeping on the deck railing each night - and crowing about it. This had to stop.
I had tried moving them into the coop at night - didn't work, each night they still started off on the railing and had to be moved. I tried locking them in the run - nope again, somehow these big roosters were flying out and going to the railing. So my last option was to lock them - and everyone else too - in the coop for at least three days and nights to get them used to sleeping in there. So I did just that. I filled up a waterer with five gallons and a feeder with thirty pounds of feed and locked everybody in. At night I snuck in there to top everything off when they were sleeping.
On Sunday, after the last night of being locked up, I went out to release everyone. I threw some treats down in the run and popped open the chicken pop door. The birds came streaming out. I walked into the coop to grab the feeder and waterer and move them back to their regular places in the run when something caught my eye.
It was my gorgeous rooster, Tesoro, the last son out of my first flock rooster, Honey, who passed away last winter. Tess hatched from a big white leghorn egg I just randomly decided to toss into the incubator. A week later, his father died. But the egg hatched, and Tesoro became slated for the role of future flock leader. He was an interesting chick, a soft buff color, and I noticed at one point that he had barring on his wings. That's actually when I first found out he was a cockerel - his leghorn mother apparently carries barring, and so he was technically a black sex link.
As he grew, he developed beautiful plumage. He was buff on most of his body, but different shades, and he had a white tail. You could just make out his barring on his primaries and it was most apparent in his saddle and his tail. He inherited the big single comb from his leghorn mother. He filled out nicely and had the size of an orpington.
Best of all, he inherited his father's temperament - good with then hens, polite to humans, and never aggressive. He was content to share flock duties with the other roosters, another great trait - since I have a large flock that likes to split up, I like to have multiple roosters so each group has a rooster.
On this morning though, he was not looking so stunning. He was wedged behind the dog crate that I use to keep broodies and their chicks in for the first two weeks. He looked pretty stuck, so I went to free him. When I approached, however, it was clear something was wrong.
I pulled the dog crate away from the wall and pulled him out. He was dead, but still warm so he had just passed. His wattles were nearly white. There was a little blood on the back of his neck, but the giveaway as to what had happened was the huge pool of blood in the shavings. Through either fighting with Pretty Boy or some sort of freak accident, the back of his comb had been ripped open and he had bled out.
My gorgeous boy was dead. Even though I still have my other two flock roosters and a lot of juveniles, it's not okay. He was the last son of my first ever flock rooster, and he was special. I can only now hope that one of the chicks that I hatched on Halloween is his progeny. And I am filled with guilt that his last few days of life were spent locked in a coop and not out free ranging with his girls.
He might not have been as rare as my ayam cemani roosters, or as funky as my frizzle cockerel, or as striking as Pretty Boy, my ayam cemani cross rooster, but he was special to me, and he was one of my last links to when I first started keeping chickens. He will be sorely missed.
On this morning though, he was not looking so stunning. He was wedged behind the dog crate that I use to keep broodies and their chicks in for the first two weeks. He looked pretty stuck, so I went to free him. When I approached, however, it was clear something was wrong.
I pulled the dog crate away from the wall and pulled him out. He was dead, but still warm so he had just passed. His wattles were nearly white. There was a little blood on the back of his neck, but the giveaway as to what had happened was the huge pool of blood in the shavings. Through either fighting with Pretty Boy or some sort of freak accident, the back of his comb had been ripped open and he had bled out.
My gorgeous boy was dead. Even though I still have my other two flock roosters and a lot of juveniles, it's not okay. He was the last son of my first ever flock rooster, and he was special. I can only now hope that one of the chicks that I hatched on Halloween is his progeny. And I am filled with guilt that his last few days of life were spent locked in a coop and not out free ranging with his girls.
He might not have been as rare as my ayam cemani roosters, or as funky as my frizzle cockerel, or as striking as Pretty Boy, my ayam cemani cross rooster, but he was special to me, and he was one of my last links to when I first started keeping chickens. He will be sorely missed.