Well over the last month or so, old Pete has plum wore out his welcome around the coop. He's taken to charging everyone except Matt and Peggy, has removed a great number of feathers from some of the hens (a few are nearly bald on their backs!) and has just generally been a nasty S.O.B. The decision was made therefore to find a new home for our rambunctious rooster.
We started by posting the following ad under "Farm and Garden" on Craigslist:
Hi there!
My name is Pete, and I'm a 10 month old Wyandotte rooster. I've been living the good life - Cage free and 22 lady friends to (ahem) keep me occupied. The only complaint I have is that I have to put up with humans. There are seven of them in all, and there is no end to the trouble they cause. They are forever coming around, opening doors, closing doors, messing about with the food and water and disturbing my hens in their nest boxes. I tried to reason with them for a time, but it was just no use. Now, I just charge the annoying pests whenever they turn their backs on me, particularly the smaller ones. This seems to cause quite a fuss, and while it doesn't actually make them leave, it does make me feel as though I'm doing a good job of protecting my hens. Trouble is that I have heard some disturbing talk from the humans about recipes, sprigs of rosemary and a wide variety of stews that all seem to involve me somehow. As good as I have it here, I can't help but feel that it is time to move on. So if you're looking for a fairly mild-mannered yet occasionally feisty addition to your flock, please reply to this ad.
Sincerely,
Pete D. Rooster
Unfortunately the only response we received from the ad was one that simply asked "Would the old boy be good for soup?" Not exactly the home we were looking for.
Through casual conversation, a friend of Wendy's mentioned that she knew someone who might be willing to take Pete. This family was described as having a "menagerie" with a barn dedicated to "feathered friends". Sounded like a good deal, so Wendy pursued it. A few phone calls were made and and by Wednesday everything was arranged for us to deliver Pete to his new home on Saturday. We were happy that we had managed to find what sounded like an ideal situation and were very optimistic about the whole affair until we started considering the logistics.
The first question that arose was how to catch the nasty bugger. While living in Key West, I had seen the "Street Roosters" that roam the island by the hundreds picked up and handled by the local Bahamians and Cubans. It looked easy enough, but I couldn't help but wonder if there wasn't some trick involved essential to the prevention of receiving numerous kicks, pecks and scratches. It was suggested that we throw a towel or blanket over the bird to contain and subdue him. Then Peggy called and told us that she remembered being told that the best way to handle a rooster was to flip them upside down. The missing information was exactly how one goes about grabbing an ornery rooster to flip it over on it's back.
Next up, how to transport him? We didn't consider this until far too late and our options were rather limited. Specifically we had the choice of trying to tape several smaller cardboard boxes together to make one big enough for Pete, an unused galvanized steel garbage can with holes punched in it, or a rather large dog crate. The boxes just seemed like a bad idea all the way around and were never really seriously considered since we didn't have any to use that were much bigger than a shoebox. The dog crate was a good option but for the size - We were hoping to capture Pete in the coop and the crate was too big to fit in there. The garbage can probably would have been the best option - Small, manageable, durable, and we wouldn't have to worry so much about cleaning it afterward. It just seemed wrong to put him in a garbage can for any length of time. We finally settled on a plan that involved capturing him in the coop, putting him in the garbage can, then transferring him to the dog crate that would be open and waiting in the back of the car.
All too soon it was Saturday morning and time to round up ol' Pete. Wendy and I headed over to the coop with the garbage can and dog crate in the back of her car. All the way over, I just kept visualizing myself walking up to Pete, calmly reaching down and picking him up, then gently placing him in the can. When we reached the coop, Pete and his girls were all out in the run enjoying the morning sunshine. Feeling brave, I walked right in to the pen with the intent of catching the old boy by surprise. Turns out Pete is much more clever than I gave him credit for and seemed to know my intention. He had my number from the start and made sure to keep himself on the opposite side of all the hens so that I couldn't get to him. I finally managed to corner him at the far end of the run and reached down to pick him up. Wily young thing, our boy Pete. He managed to escape my grasp three separate times and made a bee-line for the coop. So much for the power of visualization...
In the end, catching Pete in the coop was pretty easy. Once I had him cornered I managed to get my hands on him, but realized too late that I had reached around opposite sides of one of the perches when I grabbed him. I stood there thinking, not wanting to release my prize yet knowing I couldn't pick him up. As I pondered, a curious thing happened - Pete relaxed. Where moments before he had been squirming and fussing, he was now quiet and still. I don't know if he suddenly trusted me, had resigned himself to his fate, or figured me for an idiot that would repeatedly bash him against the perch in my efforts to pick him up and thought he had better let me think things through. Whatever the case, he stayed still and I decided to risk removing one of my hands in order to reposition it. Pete stayed quiet and allowed me to not only change my grip, but also pick him up and rotate him over on to his back. I called to Wendy to open the door of the coop and stepped proudly outside into the sunlight holding a seemingly content Pete.
The rest of the transfer went smoothly and Wendy dropped me off at the house, then continued on her way to take Pete to his new home. I'll try to convince her to post about the super-deluxe new digs that he is enjoying. As a teaser - Pete's new coop is almost as big as our entire house...
Matt, aka The Chicken Whisperer
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