This is the lovely Stevie. A hen for nearly five years, now a rooster. Or as my nephew says a roost-her. This is one of the miracles of nature. A rooster acts as a protector of his flock. He finds them food, he gets them all in the coop at night. He warns of dangers, and he will even sacrifice himself to save his flock. An integral part of survival. If something happens to the rooster, nature can change a hen to take over those cares.
I have had wonderful roosters. First was Eric the Red, brave, daring, and sweet. When he became injured, I heard the sound of a new rooster trying to find his crow. For anyone that has heard that it is more than a little eerie and very entertaining. It sounds like a cross between a wolf and an owl. But I knew there were now young chickens in there.
I sat in the coop to see who was doing it. One of my hens, Petra was crowing. Then I noticed the other changes, her comb, waddle, and tail were bigger. Her feathers took on a beautiful green hue, and she started growing spurs on her legs. As time went on her feathers all changed, she had the rooster mane and saddle. Her hips narrowed. She, or I guess they were a rooster.
Neon took over from his father and Petra. Sadly the change from hen to rooster takes a toll and shortens life span. Now that Neon has passed I had no rooster. Then one day I heard the wolf owl sounds. I found out it was Stevie. She has begun the change. Their pronoun is they, and they are in charge.
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