NOTE: The following post will contain images of animals being slaughtered and processed for food. If you're disturbed by such, please stop reading now. In fact, as we are farm and garden blog, you might want to reconsider following us, as that will be a fact of life on our posts.
So, that's Little John, our first rooster. He was a good boy, as roosters go. He did his job. Protected the hens. Called them for treats. Let loose with loud gusty crows...regularly,...so all would know they were his hens, and he would challenge all comers. In short, a rooster.
Like many, before he reached sexual maturity, he was easy to deal with, we could catch him, give him treats, let him range with the girls in the yard, etc.
|They all start off cute.|
|A young rooster and pullet hens before they even started laying. Kids in the run.|
|He was grumpy that I was holding him, but not terribly aggressive in this pic.|
|Ranging with the girls, and not even attacking us. Still young.|
|Everyone needs an old fashion portrait with their rooster.|
|Very handsome sir. Classic Strawberry Comb on a Golden Laced Wyandotte.|
|Glorious colors. He shimmered in the sun. The red of his upper wing was always a favorite of mine.|
The reasons to have one are simple. Breeding and Flock Master/Protector.
He was breeding the hens, but, his genetics weren't the best. He was purchased as a chick from a local farm store. Just a standard straight run Golden Lace Wyandotte. His spurs were a bit crooked, and the scales on his legs were misaligned, both signs of genetic issues. Pretty common in the big hatchery runs. Also, as he was a Golden Laced Wyandotte, the breed isn't one we wanted a rooster in after him. They are known for being a bit twitchy and aggressive.
He was a good flock master, in general, as far as the hens were concerned. He called them for treats, was excellent at predator awareness. His loud croaking calls would scatter the hens into cover, etc. However, his aggression with us meant that we couldn't have him free ranging with the girls. Also, we couldn't freely go into the coop/run without separating him. So, towards the end, the hens were spending most of their time in the run, and we weren't able to interact with them. He was causing us concerns, and eating food, but not contributing otherwise. Mostly cons, few pros.
We had been planning it for some time, as we had gotten in six more hens to add to our flock. We knew that Roosters are beneficial for integrating flocks and he was doing a good job at that. However, he had worn down and over bred our two Leghorn hens until they were barebacked and ragged. We kept discussing when we would take him out. Then, one day he pinned one Leghorn down at the sill to the coop door. She was hurt and wouldn't lift to breed. He got more and more frustrated, bit her harder and treaded on her until she was raw and bloody. That was it. We broke it up and separated him, and did some hen first aid.
|The bare back was from winter over breeding. You can see the abrasions on her form the treading.|
|The Rooster gave her a bloody nose. Now, let's not blame him. Instincts and hormones. She normally submits to breeding quite readily.|
|Step one in first aid was to saturate the wounds with a bit hydrogen peroxide. Clean them up and get the dirt out.|
So, with that, we pulled the rooster out of the mix, and isolated him in our newly built nursery area, attached to the existing run. We left him there for almost 48 hrs. No food, although he was able to pick through the remains in the litter and get lots of grass and scratch. Only water. Yep, seemed like a death watch kinda thing to do. It was. Best to be honest about it.
|Little John in the pen. Leah giving him a final meal of some grass.|
|If he looks pissed off, well, that is what roosters look like. However, he was. Very. Hit the wire constantly while separated. Can't blame him. He can't help. He was his default setting, once he got to maturity. Hence, the problem.|
|Lining up and getting ready.|
|Sad that I am about to do in my rooster. Only other male on the property. I purposefully used a knife made by my great-grandfather who was born in France. Seemed right.|
|One unhappy rooster, one unhappy homesteader. Note gloves, long sleeves and safety glasses. Respect the rooster.|
|A final indignity.|
|Hung on the gallows, feeling the rage. Poor guy. It's what happens.|
We had wanted to catch him and give him a final holding, send him out peacefully. He wanted none of that. So, we used a piece of ply as a shield, cornered him in the coop and caught. Tied his feet together and hung on the gallows. Goodbye Little John. You were a rooster.
|Starting the plucking.|
|The messy side of it all.|
|Scorching down pin feathers and the little sensor hairs.|
|We were both on a learning curve. We did good.|
Once we had him headless and undressed, we started the eviscerating. Now, we won't show you a big step by step and how to. Those are out there, and as this was our first bird, we aren't the ones to be teaching. We are just sharing our experience. Maybe on our 100 bird, we will. So, we followed the process, did what needed doing. If you looking for a step by step, go to your searching engine and have fun. There are tons of videos and blogs out there. I will say that mammals are far easier. You essentially just undress them and the body cavities are easier to clean out. Other than that, gutting him was simple and you can learn if quickly.
|Dressed out bird. Neck on the side. You can see the damaged skin from scorching. A common mistake.|
|The only organ picture we took. The source of his roosterness. Very large testes.|
|Rooster teeth. The stones in his gizzard.|
|First things first. Fry up the gizzard and heart. I over cooked them. Very tough. Ate them any way.|
|We had planned to freeze him, but decided an immediate cooking was best. So we aged the carcass for 12 hours in the fridge and Leah boiled it down for stew the next day.|
|The rooster was in the stew. He was, in a word delicious.|
|The range shed for the meat birds. It is built of livestock panels and sits on skids, pulled with the small attached tractor. They birds are gently moved every few days onto fresh range.|
|Ranging Meat Birds in the their movable shed.|
|The gallows for multiple birds. Slaughtering, bleeding, & plucking is done here.|
|Leah helping at the processing table. Custom built for it. Sink hooks to a hose and drains off to a field.|
|This is some of their new layer pullets in a grow out space.|
|Growing girls and one rooster.|
|Ellawyn checking out their adult layers in their movable coop.|
So, to close, processing animals for food, is by it's very nature, brutal. With attention and care you can mitigate this, but there is no removing the fact. It's not for the faint hearted, and any livestock will, at some point, require culling. It's the nature of things. There are some great blogs on the tough side of chicken keeping and my favorite is all about why..
You Absolutely Should Not Get Backyard Chickens.
I love that article and tell anyone who expresses interest in poultry to read it first. If you are unable to do the deed, and don't have the space for an "Old Hen Home", or "Randy Rooster Retirement Center" then, perhaps poultry isn't for you. If you do think you can, then the rewards of raising, caring for, and processing and animal you have known is remarkable. We know that some livestock folks can't name the animals they may slaughter. We understand. However, knowing our animals, their personalities, and lives, is part of it. We love them, we name them, we respect them, and ultimately, we respect their life when we take it.
For now, we are deeply enjoying life without a rooster. Ranging our birds is difficult in our mountains already, due to several issues. So they tend to range only on paddocks with protections. It's been a few weeks since we did the deed, and we socialize with our hens far more now. We miss the crows, we miss the presence, we don't miss the aggression.
So, I will wear his tail feathers in my hat with respect and try to show as much pride in them as Little John did. Thanks rooster. You did good.
Happy Hobby Homesteading.