The Case of the Crowing Rooster

Our chicks back in April, just a few days old on Easter Sunday

Backyard city chickens are fun. Free lawn fertilizer, speedy hands-off compost production, and endless entertainment. Quiet, goofy, and worth their weight in eggs (we hope).
 City roosters, on the other hand....not so much.

A few days ago, I was out in the yard with my girls taking care of the chickens and tending the garden. Lexi and Lyla were playing with the hose and giggling in the cool spray. That's when I heard it. The unmistakable crow of a young rooster.
Lexi heard it too.
"MOM!" she shouted. "Did you hear that? I think it was a ROOSTER!!!" (This girl does know her animal calls, city born and raised as she is).

The next day, we kept hearing it again. And again. And again.
This rooster went from crowing a few times a day to rapidly gaining in confidence and blasting us with a doodle-doo EVERY FIVE MINUTES.

I told Eric that night and we resolved to find it. Not that I mind the crowing so much (I mean, I did live in Mexico city for a few years and woke up every day at sunrise to our neighborhood macho rooster), but roosters in the city give backyard chickens a really bad rap. It's people who have roosters in the city who end up getting chickens banned, due to the noise and irresponsibility. You simply CAN'T raise roosters in the city. Period. Neighbors will complain and the whole thing will get shut down.

I've been on rooster hunt since the first crow. And today, the dude really is ruffling my feathers (forget about his). He broke the five minute interval rule and is now crowing as frequently as he can grab breath! AGH!

I'm laying down in my room trying to rest between his obnoxious belting (at my house, we ALL take naps at naptime - no exceptions), when the doorbell rings. This sets the dog barking, the rooster still crowing, and me- yelling at the dog to "BE QUIET!!! IF YOU WAKE UP THE KIDS I WILL.....!!!" -stumbling to the front door half asleep.

There is a young Latino boy standing there, probably eleven or twelve years old.
"Hi Ma'am, I was wondering, do you want to buy our rooster?"

I laugh aloud. "It's YOUR rooster that I keep hearing?"

"I think so, yeah." He looks sheepish, possibly embarrassed by his pet's countrified behavior.

"He just started crowing the other day, didn't he?"

"Yeeeaah." He sighs. "You name the price and he's yours."

I give the boy credit. He came to my door on his father's request (most likely as the English speaking spokesperson of the family), in an attempt to find a solution to get rid of the crowing bird, and further proving our suspicion that everyone in the neighborhood knows us as being the "Chicken House." I love it. Any time anyone walks by our house, they stop and gawk at the chickens, who have taken to hanging out all day under the hedge that lines the chain link fence in the front of the yard. Kids especially love to stop and get really close to the fence to have a chat with the feathered ladies, and if Eric is outside, he will almost always catch one and bring it out front for the kids to pet and see up close. If you are ever looking for creative ways to get to know the neighbors, get ten chickens and make them visible to the public eye. Being introverts, Eric and I are ever looking for someone else to make the first contact anyway. ;-)

Late May, and we have an almost hen

Back to Mr. Doodle.

I got the dad's cell phone number and address (turns out they live right across from the alley from us just two doors down) and promised to call after my husband and I talked about it. The boy emphasized again that all we had to do was name the price. These guys are desperate. I then promptly called Eric and told him the whole story. Case closed. Mystery rooster found. We were so adamant about finding that rooster (we were going to go hunting for him tonight), and in the end, the owners (no doubt annoyed and exasperated with all the vocal flaunting) ended up coming to us at the chicken house. Because surely WE would know what to do with him!

No, we will NOT be introducing the Mister to our lovely flock of ladies. The LAST thing we need around here is a boisterous flamboyant male messin' with the ten women and makin' chickies. We are already in over our heads with an addition of four Muscovy ducks and approximately TWENTY-SEVEN ducklings due to hatch in the next few days!

If we do buy him, we will do one of three things: 1) Eat very well this week, 2) Relocate him to a farm that is a little more welcoming of the vocal type - in other words, get this country boy out of the city, or 3) Come up with some other creative solution. It remains to be seen what his fate will be...

If you lived in the city and were offered a rooster, what would YOU do?