Ricky the Rooster

I was warned about one of their roosters: Ricky. I was told two things about him - one that he starts crowing around 4-4:30 in the morning and second he's been known to jump at people. He didn't like one of their helpers last year and every time she went in there he would pin her in a corner. So I was told if he jumps or flies at me give him a good kick or bring a broom with me and give him a swat and he'll leave me alone. First day or two of collecting eggs went fairly well. I was just beginning to calm down around the chickens when there was a sudden flutter at my feet. I look down and I'm unsure if Ricky has just flown at me or if I've stepped on him. Next day he actually flies at me, but I'm wearing jeans and he doesn't hurt me, but really startles me, so I kick him and he backs off for a bit. It goes on similarly for the next day or so. After being continuously attacked by a rooster my nerves are pretty raw every time I go into the coop because nothing I do will deter him. I thought the dog was bothering him so I made sure she stayed inside while I collected the eggs. I walked in with a purpose instead of quaking at the sight of a tiny, beautifully feathered Araucana rooster (who would puff out his neck feathers threateningly after I kicked him - which was surprisingly scary). For such a little thing he was pretty intimidating and every time I walked away I'd hear him crow as if he was taunting me. Then on Friday I went in to collect the eggs again and he flew at me, so I kicked him and instead of backing off he came right back for more. So I kicked him again and hurried out of the coop. The farmer happened to be walking by at the time with the other intern and we went and got a broom while we explained our woes about this jerk of a rooster. The farmer stepped in, the rooster came at him (for the first time in the roosters life), so he gave him a good swat and the rooster came right on back. That evening it was decided we would take him for a one way drive and leave him on a frequently travelled road so he would have a chance to be picked up (he wouldn't make very good eating). He wasn't removed that night which meant Saturday morning I had to face him again.

It was a quiet morning because the farmer and intern had left for Market early that morning, so the farmer's wife and I had a quiet breakfast and I set out to take care of the chickens just as it started to rain. We could hear the rumble of thunder in the distance as she chuckled at my large yellow poncho and rubber boots. Plan was to go and get the eggs from Ricky's coop first before I lost my nerve. Unfortunately for me, my nerve petered out after refilling their water and food. I told myself I'd come back after I looked after the other hens. So I moved on, collected eggs from the second (roosterless) coop, fed and watered them, got to the house and decided to wash eggs and go back out when the storm subsides for a bit.

I notice the storm going so I get everything on and I head on out to the coop with an empty metal egg basket. I get to the gate and look in at the Ricky - who was standing guard - and keep on walking to the barn. I set down the egg basket and tell myself I'll come back when the eggs are done being washed. As I wash the eggs guilt is eating away at me. I was letting a little rooster have too much power over me, the farmers expected me to collet all the eggs, I was letting my fear of a flippin' chicken get out of control. Guilt eating away at me I go out in the middle of stormy winds and pouring rain (the rain and lightning kept coming in waves), stand at the gate and glare at Ricky before departing to the sound of his crow. I'm in the kitchen again scrubbing angrily away at the eggs before I go back out and with the basket put my hand on the hook to the gate and walk back to put the basket away.

At this point I was almost in tears of frustration and failure because I couldn't conquer this fear of Ricky. I trudge back inside, sopping wet, miserable, feeling an outright failure. I struggle off my boots and want to chuck them at the wall, but let them fall where I managed to get them off. I go to my room to put on dry clothes and stand there for a minute, fuming at Ricky and glaring at his coop through my window before I march downstairs, put everything back on, grab the basket, step into the coop, and I start to collect the eggs. Ricky is there, cocking his head back and forth fluffing his feathers as thunder rolls in the distance and I'm shakily bending down to collect the eggs on the floor and worried he might attack my face. The first eggs collected I now have to boot out the hens or I won't be able to get their eggs. Booting them out of their nests in front of Ricky always made me nervous - I thought it would make him mad. At some point I began to worry that if he attacked me what if the other three roosters joined in on the attack. There was no way to fend off four frenzied, angry roosters at the same time.

Egg colletion went well, but with a bitter taste of only half success - particularly when I looked at the time. It took me about two hours to wash and collect all the eggs. I began to try and think of the number of other things I could have done in that span of time that would have been more useful. I admitted my issues to the farmer's wife and tried to make it sound like a joke. That night he was taken away for a one way drive and I'm told he chased after the van. They kept one or two of his tail feathers and I wish I took a photo of him. I hope he finds a better life...but to be honest I'm glad I can collect eggs in peace!