An interesting thing happened this week. I went into the hen house just around dusk to close the chickens' door and count birds as I always do, and I couldn't find Bruce. Usually he's in the center on the top row of perches--the prime spot--as befitting his status as Alpha Roo. But he wasn't there.
I looked and looked, and couldn't find him. I was just about to go get a flashlight and look for him when I spotted him--on the lowest row of perches, toward an edge, tucked in with some hens. I was worried about him. Was he sick? Hurt? And then I noticed Blue.
Blue was sitting in Bruce's spot. He was sitting very tall, and very proudly. And Bruce had a broken tail feather. So sometime this week, Blue must have decided to challenge Bruce for the top spot, and won. It was a bloodless coup, and if I hadn't seen the birds' body language, I would never have known it happened. The King is beaten. Long reign the King!
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| Long Reign the King! |
Don't feel TOO badly for Bruce. He's scheduled to be put in the breeding pen with a small flock of hens next week, so he'll have his own flock all to himself for a few weeks. And we'll have chicks from all three of our roosters this spring.
I can't wait for spring--I'm dreaming of sprouting seeds and hatching chicks. Are you done with winter, too?
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| Bruce and a daughter |
