In which gender comes and goes, and we don't need any more drama here

We were thrilled to be gifted six pretty hens on New Year's Eve.

This is "Sing More"

Life on a farm is rarely exciting.  "Excitement" usually means something is going terribly wrong, and we try to avoid that.

But the world of live animals doesn't always cooperate with our endeavors.

Thus, our little drama this week.

I was heading down to the barn in the dark one morning a few days ago when I heard something very unexpected:

Cock-a-dooodle-dooooooo!

 Our neighbors have roosters.  I hear those roosters all the time.  This didn't sound like those.

Also, the sound was coming from our own henhouse.

My first thought was that one of the unscrupulous neighbors--the household with the chicken-killing dog--had dumped off a rooster into our coop.  They have a documented history of trespassing their animals onto other people's pastures, although never (so far as we know) onto our property.  All of their immediately adjacent neighbors have told me that these people have snuck livestock into their fields or yards or gardens to chow down during the night.

(I did mention that the household had a reputation, didn't I?)

However, when I opened the coop to count, I identified the same 6 beaks I had tucked in the prior night...and all 6 birds blinked at me sleepily, with no sign of intrusion.

My second thought was that the sn*w, which was still on the ground, might be bouncing sound around strangely, so I was hearing a rooster who was not in our henhouse. 

I mean, I hadn't had so much as a cup of tea while thinking all these thoughts.  It didn't seem like the craziest option available.

I didn't think I could recognize the distinct voices of roosters, but maybe I can? The voice I was hearing didn't sound familiar to me.  It didn't sound like any rooster we've ever owned, and didn't sound like the rooster voices I usually hear on neighboring farms.

Which left two options:

1.   One of our hens was crowing

This unusual-but-not-impossible behavior is usually associated with older hens who are experiencing hormonal changes from menopause.  

Our chickens are (reportedly) only a year or two old.  They are not all laying eggs right now, but that's not unusual in January.  We are getting 1-3 eggs every day, for which we are thankful. Maybe one of our "young" hens is actually old?

We haven't figured out which hen lays which eggs, although theoretically
their ear-color should help us determine it

2.  One of our hens is a rooster.

This seemed less-likely to me because I've never met a rooster who could keep quiet for 20 minutes, let alone three weeks.  

However, I remember thinking that the Buff Orpington had a very large comb and wattles for a hen.  Usually a female bird with those large signifiers would be the boss of the flock, but Sing More was absolutely the bottom of the order--even little Dance More the black silkie could take food away from Sing.

So I took another photo and posted for the Online Experts, who all agree:

Large comb, thick legs, upright posture, triangular "cape" feathers, fancy tail =
rooster

I heard two more cockadoos yesterday and then...nothing.  No more crowing last night or today.  So...what the actual hell?

I'm not a fan of roosterish behavior, generally:  loud piercing voices, and a tendency to attack people or dogs.  Pratchett was a relatively nice rooster and was very kind to the hens, but his voice got boisterous.  After he died, I figured we'd never get another nice rooster in this lifetime, so I didn't even want to try.

But now there is Sing More, who lived unnoticed (by me, anyhow) in a flock of hens for three weeks.  

That's my kind of rooster!

We've decided to consider Sing non-binary.  If they want to crow occasionally, then that's okay.  If they lay an egg sometimes, we won't complain!

Another new resident definitely uses he/him pronouns.

This is Q

Q probably got dumped here around the same time as the Great December Chicken Massacre.  He has been hanging around long enough that we decided we needed to capture him to make sure he didn't belong somewhere else. 

We've needed to capture animals enough in the past few years that we finally broke down and bought a live trap.  Jim set it up while I was at work.

baited with stinky canned food, and set in a building where we 
normally feed outdoor cats

Less than 4 hours later, we caught him.

I was kind of surprised that we didn't catch Sinbad or Goblin, since they are
both notoriously greedy for food.  But Q got there first!

I called my friends at the shelter and made arrangements to bring Q in the following day to be scanned for a chip (none found, no surprise) and/or neutered (as necessary) so he could return here.

The problem became apparent very fast:  a scared intact male kitty in my car who firehosed cat pee.  Even though I wrapped the trap in a tarp and dog towels, the vehicle interior was not better for having made the journey.

It smelled SO BAD.  We threw out the towels--dog towels are usually only a few steps from garbage, so that was fine.  We hauled out the tarp and let rain fall on it. It can hang out in the back yard for a month, then we will evaluate.

As for my car:  I have scrubbed, vacuumed, and driven with the windows open.  I also called a professional car detailer, and borrowed a portable steam cleaner for the interior.  

Ewww.

The good news is that young Q is home here now, with a temporary nest set up in the wellhouse where he can stuff himself on canned food, lounge around in a nice soft bed under a heat lamp,

 and generally heal up without having to defend against roustabouts like Goblin or Sinbad, at least for a few days.

Because the heavens know: we don't need any more drama around here.