Friday 5 March 2010

Operation Stuffing

I ate my cockerel. And very nice he was too. Usually I have a dilemma every year about my cockerels and the fact I have too many of them but this year we resorted to eating one and perhaps we'll continue.
It seems rather extreme and I totally understand but lets look at it from my hens point of view...
There you are, the sun is shining, you are minding your own business pecking away, scuffling up a bit of dirt and you spot a big fat juciy slug and them BAM!
WHAMBAMTHANKYOUMAAM!
You get up slightly dazed and shake your head a bit, the bugger who just did this to you really hurt when he grabbed the back of your neck with his beak. You chortle your disgust and give him the eye and then as you turn away to compose youself - BAM! It happens again with a different cockerel.
You let out an almighty squawk and make a dash for the barn where you join the rest of the disgruntled sisterhood. From then on in it is a case of slinking along the sides of buildings and peering around corners to see if you can make it to the hen hut where you can lay and egg in relative peace. You long for the grass and the weeds to grow long so you can hide more effectivley. You are desperate to lay an egg but you don't want any attention thank you very much from anymore lecherous young cocks strutting their stuff in the yard.
You plot the buggers downfall. You remember your youth when cockerels actually did more than just mount you. The days when they courted you and helped you find the juciest morsels, the time when they looked out for you. Now you just want them all to die and to leave you alone. Berlimey you can hardly eat without one or another trying to do his stuff without a by your leave! So much for long summer nights huh!
So you get the picture? Too many cockerels equals too many unhappy and exhausted hens. Solution: Operation Stuffing. I used to get someone else in and they would take the boys away now I am a little less squeamish and in the dead of night when all is calm and the chickens cannot see I slink down to the hen hut with deadly intent. Silently I open the door shine a flashlight in to identify my prey then bouff they are out and the deed done with hardly a squawk. The operation is carried out a few more times and tehn I leave. No evidence that the boys have ever existed.
The next day my hens are happy with the chosen few cockerels to stand guard, to treat them as they should be treated....
Top picture shows: 'Quasimodo' the Silkie Cockerel: a born gentleman despite his looks!

23 comments:

Trish said...

Quite jealous of all that male attention! Wouldn't it be marvellous to be fighting them off?

Tattieweasle said...

Trish - you should see my hens I am NOT kidding poor things they are knackered but there again to be in that position!!!!

Maggie Christie said...

Of course that's the reason the sensible French invented Coq au Vin! Poor hens. I hope they show their gratitude to you by laying lots of lovely eggs.

Glowstars said...

Well at least you know where the poultry on your plate has come from!

Tattieweasle said...

Preseli Mags - 12 eggs this morning! I think that's appreciation.
Glowstars - just as long as I don't tell the boys....

Anonymous said...

You ate your cock! And your previous post was called Being Nice!

CJ xx

Tattieweasle said...

CJ - I know I am shockingly contradictory but in my defence I was being nice to the hens, I had their welfare at heart and it was nothing to do with the fact that I really fancied some coq au vin honest....

Expat mum said...

You killed them with your bare hands? I don't know whether to be terrified or very impressed.

Tattieweasle said...

Expat Mum - I use a broomstick....

Iota said...

You won my competition! Come on over and tell me what you'd like me to post about next.

Iota said...

You use a broomstick...? You are made of strong stuff, Tattie.

Not From Lapland said...

I am super impressed. I would love to have chickens and eat them too but i think I would be sending the Mr out to do the deed.

Tattieweasle said...

Iota - WOW that it fantatstic! No me winning not the being strong comment. It's because I am a wuss that I use the broomstick; real chicken keeper's do it with their bare hands (some of the strange ones I've met here in Suffolk I swear do it with their teeth...)

diney said...

When we used to keep chickens my brother decided he was manly enough to wring the neck of one of them (he was 18) which Mum had in mind for some soup but no matter how much he wrung the neck it just kept stretching and the poor thing didn't die - eventually she was running around in circles with a 2 foot long neck and brother became a vegetarian! Perhaps a broom would have been good....

SmitoniusAndSonata said...

I'm not sure why the fact hat you use a broomstick is supposed to reassure us . It conjures up a picture of you despatching cockerels in a long black pointy hat .... and I don't mean a Welsh one .
But I envy you your ready supply of both eggs and tasty chicken !

mountainear said...

Why when you hatch a clutch of eggs are there always more cockerels than hens?

I agree with you - 1 is fine, quite enough thank you. Get 'em scoffed.

Molly said...

I used to keep hens. The male boggers would catch them just as they popped out through the pop hole. Good for you Tattie - that 'll cool their ardour.
Here's to Coq au Vin!

TIGGYWINKLE said...

This post made me laugh Tattie. Reminds me of the time, when we lived in the country, and having expressed an interest in some boiling fowl to a neighbour,to have 6 half dead pulsating red hens arrive in a plastic sack.Tigger ran to bed. I recruited half of the village, and a bottle of Vodka later they were plucked and drawn.Got a lovely recipe for boiling fowl which Tigger enjoyed, before I told him it was one of the red hens.He nearly threw up.

Anonymous said...

So a broomstick is the answer. When we had fowls husband, the new high school teacher in a country town, tried to dispatch a sick one by whacking it with a shovel. When he tried to bury it, it woke up and peered at him with an accusing gaze. Was all too much for him, us being city-bred and all, so we embarrassed ourselves having to get the high school kid next door to finish the job. Maybe a broomstick would have saved the indignity.

veryanniemary said...

I say eat the rapists! I have seen people take a bird by the head and swing the body around to snap the neck. Sounds gruesome but it was quick and efficient! Not that I could do it - I couldn't kill a dying finch that my cats brought in - I just slobbered tears all over it and lectured the cats about their hunting technique...very useful...

Pondside said...

Mountainear asked my question 'Why are there always so many cockerels in a clutch of hatchlings?'
I like to keep one rooster around the hen house, but I still feel sorry for the girls, taken unawares, as they are.
We eat ours with no regret, no squeamishness. They're delicious.

Anonymous said...

Oh - I'm now craving roast chicken! Mind you, I'm hard hearted. When I spy sweet little piglets snuffling around I always think of bacon.

Tattieweasle said...

Diney - That's why I use a broom handle. I must add though I am always highly suspect when they seem to jump about after I have killed them; it creeps me out!
SmitoniusAndSonata - ooh no! You've found me out!
Mountainear - I've never figured that one out either. Wish they were like Crocdiles and it was all done on how hot the eggs got!
Molly Golver - My randy cockerles did that too. Actually one does feel for them so much competition so little time! However they are yummy...
Tiggywinkle - I adore your stories! Poor Tigger but I'm sat here giggling: we are a blood thirsty lot!
Pam - Oh your poor husband: enough to put you off chicken for life!
veryanniemary - Hi! I've found myself doing that lecture to my cats too. They politley listened to my tirade and went and did it agin: now they have bells on their collars...
Pondside - I have six roosters in total as some are rare breeds like Iggy the Indian Game and Sir Galahad my Silver Grey Dorking; they are kept in large cages with a harem; I do feel slightly sorry for their girls! I also have a roster who's very in tune with his feminine side, Fandango a Favourelle, but he's french....I haven't the heart to eat him!
Mud - you carnivore you!!!!

Go on you know you want to...

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