We've all been there: squinting at saddle feathers, whispering "round? pointy?" to ourselves while a chicken stares back with the deadpan judgment only a bird can muster. The straight-run lottery is a gamble wrapped in an eggshell. You lost one chick along the way, that's a rough start. And now you're looking at four survivors and a chorus of conflicting opinions, ranging from "all pullets" to "three roos." It's the feathered friend equivalent of reading tea leaves, except the tea leaves occasionally try to peck your ankles.
Let's talk about those saddle feathers. At nine weeks old, you're right in the frustrating middle ground. Many breeds don't start showing true pointed hackle or saddle feathers until around twelve to sixteen weeks. What you're seeing now, rounded tips on everyone, is the avian version of adolescence: all awkward, no clarity. The black birds you suspect are roos *could* be. The brown ones you hope are pullets *could* be. But rounded feathers at this stage are the default setting. That's not a guess; it's biology. The folks telling you "all pullets" might be reading too much into a temporary phase. The folks saying "three roos" might be projecting their own worst fears. The real answer is: wait three more weeks. Check saddle feathers again. Check comb and wattle development. Listen for the first awkward croak that sounds like a rooster in training.
What does this mean for you practically? Don't reorganize your coop based on a feather reading that's still in draft mode. Keep them together. If you're in a neighborhood with noise ordinances, start mentally mapping which local farm sanctuary might take a surprise roo. In our experience, it's easier to plan for a "worst case three roosters" scenario than to scramble later. And hold onto that straight-run receipt if you got them from a hatchery that does sexing, some offer a partial credit if it turns out you got extra roos in a "pullet" batch. Granted, you ordered straight run, so you knew the rules going in.
Here's where we land: trust the process, not the panic. Chickens will reveal their secrets on their own timeline, not yours. In three more weeks, those rounded saddle feathers will either sharpen into rooster territory or stay gently curved like a pullet's. Until then, enjoy the comedy, watching four identical chickens pretend they're all the same gender is the kind of wholesome chaos that makes backyard flocks worth the headache. And if you end up with three roos, you'll have the best-dressed poultry choir on the block.