This morning as I was getting my daughter strapped into her carseat, I kept hearing the strangest sound. It was like gurgling, gargling, and groaning all combined – and as if it was coming out of the mouth of a hybrid cat-baby-bird creature. It was loud, and really weird.
I asked my husband if he heard it (he had, but assumed it was our daughter – she’s pretty weird, but not that weird) and finally we tracked it down to the chicken coop. One of our Ameraucana chickens is transitioning – into a full-on, cockle-doodle-doo-ing, rooster.
Now, I know that you can check the gender of baby chicks by doing some weird squeezing method, but I wasn’t interested in that. There were no guarantees when we bought our chicks that they would all be hens, and I just figured we would find out soon enough.
I had noticed, just yesterday, that this Ameraucana chicken looked a little different than the other hens – a little bigger, with a more noticeable comb on its head. And it’s been more aggressive than the other ladies when we enter the coop. But it was the noise coming out of its mouth that solidified what had only been conjecture: this hen was a “he.”
I feel bad for him. He sounds like an awkward teenager whose voice is cracking. He seems to know that he is supposed to be crowing, but can’t quite get the sound out right.
Poor guy. I am not interested in having roosters, so I guess he’ll be the first chicken bound for the soup pot. (I suppose I should go YouTube some chicken slaughtering videos because I know my husband is too tenderhearted to kill anything.)
I’m not sure how to break it to my daughter, who had already named our two Americaunas “Elsa” and “Anna” after her favorite movie, Frozen.
Life is funny sometimes.