Posts Tagged cull a chicken

I’ve been engaged in what they call “flock management”. Flock management is one of the responsibilities of having a flock of chickens. It sometimes requires making a difficult decision. The decision of having to “cull” one of my hens has taken over a year for me to make. What a heartless sounding word “cull” is. In poultry, or in any animal management, it means “to pick out for rejection for not meeting the standard or to remove for specific reasons”. In poultry speak, cull can also mean “to wring their necks, cut their throats, chop off their heads, or in some other way, dispense of the offender”. Thank goodness, it can also mean to “find them another place to live, or, to rehome”.

Taylor Newton with Petunia

I finally made the decision to “cull” Petunia. Over the past year, this beautiful Golden-laced Wyandotte, became more and more of a “bully”. She had always picked on Rosie, making her life quite miserable toward the end. Sweetpea and Daisy were her other targets but she focusd on Tulip when she was recently sick, until I intervened. I never once saw her attack the silver-laced Wyandotte, Poppy, the matriarch and “no-nonsense” memeber of the group. The final straw was her treatment of Daisy when she was broody. Every time I took Daisy from the nest to try to get her to eat and drink, Petunia would chase her around the run until she went back in.

I removed Petunia from the run and kept her in the garden shed in a dog crate for a week before finding her a home. She was as sweet as sugar during her confinement, gently chorkeling to me, and to Tulip in the next cage, as I went about my gardening. I tried to return her several times to the coop but I could see that I didn’t have the tolerance for the frantic squacking and chaotic disorder that Petunia created. She needed a larger space and what I think of as “rooster leadership”. Yes, roosters do keep peace among hens, but there is an ordinance against roosters in Cambria, so we are doomed here, to have quiet, but confused, flocks.

It was not easy finding a home for Petunia. Many people, I found, did not want to introduce an “ill-tempered” hen into their established flock. I can hardly blame them. Then, along came Taylor Newton, owner of Newton Cultivation in Morro Bay; rescuer of all things living and willing to give a “mean girl” a chance. His rescued roosters far outnumber his hens. But Petunia’s a tough little beauty. I think she will do all right.

I’ve been sad for a few days now. The act of giving up has taken its toll. But my garden is a more peaceful place. The hens seem settled and content for the first time in a long time. As I handed Petunia over to Taylor Newton, I assured myself that  Petunia is getting a chance to be a real chicken, not a pampered pet perhaps, but a real chicken. I wish her well.

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