There's a special kind of chaos that comes with bringing home a mystery chicken, and our fellow Redditor over at r/chickens is living it. They've got a Silver Laced Wyandotte, scooped up from the dollar bin at Tractor Supply, and now they're playing the most stressful game in the poultry world: hen or roo? Five weeks in, and the answers are split down the middle. I've been there, squinting at feather patterns like they're ancient runes, and honestly, it's a rite of passage. It reminds me of the pure joy we saw with those Six fluffy chicks have hatched—egg-cellent news from our feathered friends! because every hatch brings this same delightful uncertainty.
So, what's the verdict? At seven weeks, a Wyandotte is still a teenager with an identity crisis. The sickle feathers, the stance, the attitude, they're all still loading. The truth is, you might just have to wait until that telltale crow or the first egg appears, and that's the part that drives new owners bonkers. But here's the thing, you're not alone in this limbo. We recently covered a Chickens Got Her Good! A Backyard Poultry Adventure that proved the learning curve for this hobby is steep, but the community is always ready to chip in with a guess or a laugh. My honest take? If you're getting both answers, you're probably dealing with a late bloomer, and that's okay. The breed standard says hens get those laced feathers looking sharp and tidy, while the roos tend to get a bit more dramatic with their hackle and tail feathers, but it's subtle at this age.
The practical advice I'd give to anyone in this spot is to look for the giveaway signs that don't lie: the leg thickness, the comb development, and the tail carriage. A seven-week-old roo will often have a bigger, redder comb that stands up a bit more defiantly, like it knows it's got a job to do. A hen, on the other hand, tends to keep things a little more understated. But don't beat yourself up if you still can't tell, because even the veterans get fooled. That's the beauty of this feathered friend game, it keeps you humble. And if you're worried about the noise or the legality of a rooster in your area, that's a real concern, but it's a problem for future you. Right now, you've got a pretty bird that's doing its best, and that's worth celebrating.
The real takeaway here isn't the gender, it's the lesson in patience. You didn't just buy a chicken, you bought a little suspense novel with feathers. So, keep taking those photos, keep asking for opinions, and remember that even if you get it wrong, you'll have a funny story either way. The moment that bird crows or drops that first gorgeous brown egg, you'll look back on this confusion and laugh. So, here's my challenge to you: give it two more weeks, and if you're still stuck, look for a crow. Because if that little Wyandotte starts belting out a tune at dawn, you'll have your answer, and a very loud alarm clock.
