COUNTRY DIARY:

Their behaviour might not always be that gentlemanly, but when danger comes lurking, a pair of handsome roosters know just what to do.

gutsy roosters to the rescue

Roosters divide people. Most people dislike their loud crowing, sometimes as early as 3am. And others say they are vicious, nasty things who will attack their owners and bite the hand that feeds.

But some people, like me, cannot get enough of them. My two roosters, Rusty and Beau, are not only beautiful specimens, covered in glossy black, orange and white feathers and standing tall and proud, but they are also essential for breeding. They spend much of their day jumping on my hens and therefore fertilising their eggs. I know they are doing a good job because in six months we have increased our flock from 10 to 28 chickens and when you crack open an egg a small dot in the yolk indicates that Rusty or Beau has been busy and it is fertilised.

Someone once told me that eating fertilised eggs is much better for you then unfertilised because they are “a living entity”. I try not to think too much about that.

Both roosters love nothing better than finding food for their hens and calling them over. They’ll dig and scratch until they find some worms then make a peculiar sort of “gobble, gobble” sound to summon the hens, standing back while they have a feed.

If I offer them a treat they will take it, then throw it on the ground in front of the hens rather than eat it themselves. At first I thought this was the ultimate gentlemanly act, until I realised that soon after the hens have started eating the treat, the roosters take their chance to have their way with the hens.

One evening recently I was sitting on the steps of the hen house watching my flock have their dinner. I find it very relaxing watching them nibble while they keep to their strict pecking order. There are four tiers to my hens; with the oldest being the boss hens down to the youngest, who are bossed constantly. I always count the little chicks to make sure none have disappeared during the day. They can be picked up by hawks, who regularly fly over my property looking for prey.

As I was absorbed in this cosy scene the whole flock suddenly disappeared. There was no noise or warning; they just all swept silently into the bushes in a matter of seconds. It was as if someone had taken a blanket and just brushed them all to one side.

I had never seen them do this before and peered into the trees to see what was going on. The adult hens were shielding the babies and they were all standing perfectly still, for all the world looking as though they were playing that game “Freeze!” we played as kids.

Hens don’t often stand still, so it must have been a huge effort for them. Then I noticed that the strict social hierarchy had been abandoned. Top hens were standing side by side with lower hens who were standing next to even lower-class hens.

What could cause such unusual co-operation I wondered? I looked up and there it was. A huge hawk cruising overhead in a casual manner, although I could sense he was poised to attack. Only then did I notice that the two roosters, Beau and

Rusty, had not been swept away in the tide of hens. They were standing out in the open, heads to one side staring at the hawk. Their legs were wide, their feathers puffed out and they were strutting.

“Come on and have a go,” they seemed to be saying to the hawk. “Bring it on!”

My roosters had turned into warriors, prepared for battle, marching up and down the driveway, ready to take on the hawk.

“You little beauties,” I said as I watched them protect their flock.

It was all over in five minutes and the hens were soon back to feeding and bullying and bickering, and best of all the little chicks were safe.

I rushed back to the house for treats. Dried mealworms and fresh corn on the cob were offered to Rusty and Beau, and for once they both had a good feed before offering it to the flock. I guess in cases of immense heroism, food comes before sex. AWW

“The whole flock suddenly disappeared. There was no noise or warning; they just all swept silently into the bushes. ”