I just finished reading a bit about how to introduce chickens to one another. It happened here, but it certainly didn't take a week. More like 6 weeks.
The article about introducing new chickens into an established flock ended with "We are so happy that you have decided to raise chickens!!" I have met people who decided to raise chickens, or keep chickens but I don't fall into that category. If it weren't for Buck, I wouldn't have chickens, they would have gone to live with Rosamund & Cayce & Ingrid in Wilton when they moved. Thing is, they told me that they would be eating Buck, and I just felt as though he didn't deserve to be eaten just for being a rooster. It's not as though he would be digestible even. I watched him race across the yard today when I came home, intent of getting a chance to launch into my footwear before I got to the house. I stood still so he stopped about 16" shy of me. He pecked at the bag I carried, but his heart wasn't in it. It was as though he rampaged over and then forgot what he was on about. He pretended to take a deep interest in a bit of fluff he found on the ground nearby until I moved again, and then he put on some speed. I stopped, turned and said "Red Light!" and he stopped too. He looked over his shoulder, examined his wing feathers for symmetry, and rushed at me again when I took some steps toward the door. I was near a repository of fresh lettuce and cabbage leaves, reached over, grabbed a handful and distributed them liberally. He made some appreciative noises, called the hens, and all was forgiven. I'm sure he would be happier if I were smarter.
The article about introducing new chickens into an established flock ended with "We are so happy that you have decided to raise chickens!!" I have met people who decided to raise chickens, or keep chickens but I don't fall into that category. If it weren't for Buck, I wouldn't have chickens, they would have gone to live with Rosamund & Cayce & Ingrid in Wilton when they moved. Thing is, they told me that they would be eating Buck, and I just felt as though he didn't deserve to be eaten just for being a rooster. It's not as though he would be digestible even. I watched him race across the yard today when I came home, intent of getting a chance to launch into my footwear before I got to the house. I stood still so he stopped about 16" shy of me. He pecked at the bag I carried, but his heart wasn't in it. It was as though he rampaged over and then forgot what he was on about. He pretended to take a deep interest in a bit of fluff he found on the ground nearby until I moved again, and then he put on some speed. I stopped, turned and said "Red Light!" and he stopped too. He looked over his shoulder, examined his wing feathers for symmetry, and rushed at me again when I took some steps toward the door. I was near a repository of fresh lettuce and cabbage leaves, reached over, grabbed a handful and distributed them liberally. He made some appreciative noises, called the hens, and all was forgiven. I'm sure he would be happier if I were smarter.
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Glad to hear from you, but criticisms will be ignored. It's the beauty of the web. I will answer all friendly remarks. Buck handles the rest.