SFR Chickens..

Sorta fishing-related
I mentioned my farming and chicken raising history in an earlier post. During the chicken years we somehow ended up with this red rooster who grew into a BIG RED ROOSTER. And then he turned mean. I also had up to 6 milk cows at one time, milking by hand, no milking machines in our barn. The BIG RED ROOSTER would sometimes sneak up from behind and attack by jumping up on my back. This was startling when I was balanced on a milking stool and trying not to spill the milk bucket while under attack from that damn rooster. So my younger step-brother and his neighbor friend decided to take care of Mr. Rooster. They chased him all around the barnyard; it really was quite funny to watch. That is, until they finally caught him. I don't know where they found it, but the kids had come by this old rusty cleaver that was as dull on its blade edge as it was on its back edge. They took Mr. Rooster to the chopping block and whacked his head innumerable times. I might have thought they were being inhumane, but man, I hated that rooster too. It took them a while, but they eventually killed it and butchered it. My mom made chicken soup, but I swear it was the toughest chicken soup I'd ever eaten. I was just glad to be rid of that mean and onery BIG RED ROOSTER.
 
First post on the new site...about chickens instead of fishing!

When I moved from the city back to the outskirts a few years ago we inherited four wild roosters. They were brothers and all cool in their own way. Always getting into some kind of trouble within their five acre wandering zone. They slept in the trees, refusing to use the 12'x16'x8' enclosure I built for them.
Eventually four became two (due to their carefree lifestyle), and they inherited three hens.
At this point there is one rooster left along with the three hens, living a luxurious lifestyle, in secure coup within the enclosure, free ranging a quarter acre during daylight hours, despite stopping laying at the end of last summer.
I threaten to kill them every day but my better half insists on treating them better than me.

As my neighbor affectionately refers to them - "f*cking chickens"!
 
We had chickens, neibors had chickens other neibors had chickens and Guinea fowl, another neibor had Peacock.

Peacock are the most annoying animal on this here planet.
 
I once asked about peacocks at a neighborhood gathering.
Man, with the amount of folks packing I felt lucky to get out of there without a hole in me.
:ROFLMAO::ROFLMAO::ROFLMAO::ROFLMAO:
 
Bhudda said:
A documentary on Netf..x about chicken people, like the Westminster of dogs… I was entertained to say the least, and learned some too. I draw the line at dressing chickens up tho, that’s wacky! I’m not gonna lie, I’m sorta kinda interested in raising birds, but not chickens. More on the lines of pheasants for me. You a chicken person?
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No chance. Got my fill of chickens when I was a teenager. Worked several years at an egg ranch near my grandmother’s house in rural SoCal. 30,000 chickens in 90+ degree heat was enough for my lifetime. Unlike some new age egg ranches, we didn’t give them any names though!

My next job was bagging groceries for tips at March AFB….which considered to be a huge promotion.
 
Salmo_g said:
I mentioned my farming and chicken raising history in an earlier post. During the chicken years we somehow ended up with this red rooster who grew into a BIG RED ROOSTER. And then he turned mean. I also had up to 6 milk cows at one time, milking by hand, no milking machines in our barn. The BIG RED ROOSTER would sometimes sneak up from behind and attack by jumping up on my back. This was startling when I was balanced on a milking stool and trying not to spill the milk bucket while under attack from that damn rooster. So my younger step-brother and his neighbor friend decided to take care of Mr. Rooster. They chased him all around the barnyard; it really was quite funny to watch. That is, until they finally caught him. I don't know where they found it, but the kids had come by this old rusty cleaver that was as dull on its blade edge as it was on its back edge. They took Mr. Rooster to the chopping block and whacked his head innumerable times. I might have thought they were being inhumane, but man, I hated that rooster too. It took them a while, but they eventually killed it and butchered it. My mom made chicken soup, but I swear it was the toughest chicken soup I'd ever eaten. I was just glad to be rid of that mean and onery BIG RED ROOSTER.
Click to expand...
Gotta braise them. Low and slow. Coq au Vin style!
 
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