A couple of years ago, the local school hatched chicks–and then didn’t know what to do with them. So one of my neighbors took them in, not realizing that many of them would turn into roosters. A couple of times a week the “ladies” and their escorts (who watch over them closely) pay a visit, pecking around for whatever morsels they can find. (This a bit of a Waldo-type photo. You can see them to the right of the tree in the quasi-center of the pic.)
I actually like when they come to visit. It makes me feel as if I live in the country – one of my goals upon retirement. And they never go ’round to the back of the house, where my bedroom is, so I am never awakened to the sound of cock-a-doodle-do. In short, the best of both worlds.
It occurred to me that we take chickens for granted, but they are actually kind of pretty. Some of my visitors have beautiful plumage, and the crests of the roosters are rather impressive. Granted, their walk is ungainly, and nobody is going to confuse their clucking with the sounds of nightingales singing, but overall the chicken’s not a bad-looking bird. Just sayin’.