My other boys
Roosters. I swore I’d never have one. I promised the neighbors.
But this year I got it in my head to put some fertile eggs under a broody, knowing roosters were a possible outcome. And how.
The final result: twelve ‘fertile’ eggs resulting in three live chicks. Two of whom are cockerels.
The first six were duds. Then I got four more in a close-to-hatching state, of which only two hatched. I may have damaged the other two somehow getting them home, for which I feel rotten. So I got two more newly hatched from the lady I’d bought the eggs from, from the same clutch of eggs.
What I’m going to do with these two handsome boys, I do not know. It all depends on how they act when the testosterone takes hold.
We’ve started to hear faint and feeble cock-a-doodle-doos of a morning.
September 26, 2018 — 8:31 pm
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