The feathers are black, and even at three and a bit weeks, his voice is beginning to break. Gone are the sweet little “cheep, cheep, cheeps”. Now It’s a louder, slightly deeper, “chirp, chirp, chirp”. There’s no denying it – one of my chicks, Maude, is in fact a Claude. I don’t think the neighbours will appreciate a crowing rooster, so he’s going to have to go. We were told when we got the chicks that if one was a rooster, then to send it back to the farm. I think they would then kill it. The idea of killing the poor chickadee for no real reason didn’t really appeal to me. I’d much rather raise it first…and then kill it… to eat of course! Besides, I’ve heard that young cock is supposed to rather tasty *sniggers*. I’ve prepared the children for the fact that Claude will one day be our dinner. The 5 year old is pretty cool with that, and has taken to telling everybody that we will be eating Claude.
At least I have one egg laying hen. I just need to find her a companion before we devour Claude….