This is Roo-Roo, a.k.a. Roux, Ruby Roux, and “your crappy roommate” to Emilio – also a rooster.
Roo-Roo is a pretty great rooster as far as roosters go. Meets all of the right criteria:
• Fearless
• Defiant
• Runs to protect the hennies from real and imagined dangers.
He’s always leading the charge – crowing defiantly if I pick him up, challenging Squish (the flock’s top roo) at any given opportunity, chasing Emilio (his roommate) on a whim and simply causing all around mayhem.
He is tireless.
He didn’t start out that way of course. Like all chickens, he was this tiny ball of fluff that won my heart because he preferred to cuddle in my hands than scratch around with the other little peeps. In particular, that is how I would calm him and tuck him in to sleep every night.
You see, Lollipop (as he was called then) and his siblings didn’t have a hen mama.
They were an Easter hatch for a class of kindergarteners. Their teacher bought some beautiful fertile eggs and placed them in an incubator. Then, 21 days later, like magic, there they were. Peeping balls of fluff for the children to marvel at. 5 out of 7 had hatched.
Two weeks later I got the call – well, text actually. He was done and he was bringing them back. I had sold him the eggs and I was also his exit plan. No rehoming, no raising them for pets or food. No lesson taught in being responsible for another being’s life. Such a wonderful opportunity to plant the seeds of good humans into tender minds lost. Shame.
Truth be told I was horrified – but I had agreed at the onset to take them back after the hatch. In that transaction I learned that it’s common practice for many teachers to do this. They hatch eggs to teach science and then they send them back – totally omitting the lesson in social responsibility. (Insert horrified emoji here.)
Fast forward – almost a year later and I have too many roos in my would be urban farm. I’ve been putting off the inevitable. While I always relish a good soup or coq au vin, I experienced far too much loss last year to take yet another life. Unable – unwilling – to do the deed, my own exit plan was put on hold. I hoped that someone would come along that wanted a good flock roo. No such person ever surfaced.
So today is the day. Roo-Roo will go back from whence he came.
Remembering the cuddles and seeing what he grew into brings a sadness to me. Though we stopped being friends a long time ago, it is with heavy heart that I bring him into this part of the food chain. Still, this is what I signed up for when I opted to raise my own food. It’s just that it somewhat pisses me off that I allowed myself to be someone else’s exit plan.