barred rock
9 stories filed under barred rock on Alektorophobia. The newest of them: “Egg-citing Guessing Game: Pullets vs Cockerels in My Flock of Nine”, “My chickens stole my egg bagel: are they an invasive species too?”, and “Odard the rooster is getting cocky: and we've got little kids to protect”. Seven 9-week-old Ameraucanas and a guessing game I can totally get behind. There I was, bagel in hand, coffee steaming, ready for a peaceful morning. Chickens. Everything there is to know about chickens and the fear of them. The list below is every barred rock story on Alektorophobia, newest first.
Egg-citing Guessing Game: Pullets vs Cockerels in My Flock of Nine
Seven 9-week-old Ameraucanas and a guessing game I can totally get behind. You've got a flock of nine, two of which you know for sure are pullets (those sneaky barred rock crosses gave themselves away), leaving the rest a feathered mystery. I love the stakes here, you can only keep two, and you need to be certain they're hens. That's not just fowl play; that's smart planning. Anyone want to take a cluck-tastic guess at which are pullets and which are cockerels? It's like a feathered puzzle, and honestly, I'm here for the chaos.
My chickens stole my egg bagel: are they an invasive species too?
There I was, bagel in hand, coffee steaming, ready for a peaceful morning. Then Rice and Louise decided my breakfast was actually a community meal. Louise, that barred rock with the defective comb, and her partner-in-crime Rice apparently operate under the belief that possession is nine-tenths of the law, and they possess everything. Honestly, I can't even be mad. Watching a chicken sprint off with an egg bagel is nature's most chaotic comedy. Are they an invasive species? They're certainly invasive when it comes to my kitchen. But really, who can blame them? That bagel had egg on it. They were just reclaiming their heritage. For more fowl food heists, check out "Almond's donut heist proves her fowl food fiend status." These birds are relentless.
Odard the rooster is getting cocky: and we've got little kids to protect
Odard the rooster is getting cocky, and with little kids to protect, that's a problem that's both egg-citing and terrifying. Our reader's Rhode Island Red has jumped at her twice, no spurs yet, no injuries, but the fear is real. We get it. You love the guy, he's beautiful, he's sweet to his hens, but you can't afford a dangerous bird. Chasing him around to prove you're not scared? That just ended in a frantic game of fowl hide-and-seek. Don't stew him yet. There are ways to curb this behavior before it escalates, and we've got the cluck-tastic advice to share.
Planned for 4 chickens but my flock egg-sploded to 12
Well, I *love* this. You planned for four feathered friends and ended up with a dozen, that's not a flock, that's a fowl takeover! I can totally relate to the egg-splosion. You've got a wonderfully quirky mix there, from the fancy Silver Laced Polish to the two Silkie fluffballs. I especially admire the commitment to the White Face Black Spanish; those are some rare, elegant birds. It's a bit of a madhouse, but a cluck-tastic one. For anyone else whose chicken math has gone haywire, you might find some solidarity in our guide on spotting fowl play in the coop. Your flock might not be super diverse, but it sounds perfectly chaotic.
Well, looks like Marigold's croaking confirms our little flock's identity crisis
Oh, Marigold is croaking, that's not a good sign for anyone hoping for a peaceful hen house. This poor flock has been through it: a hawk attack, a lost roo, and now two suspiciously vocal youngsters waving their red flags like they're running for mayor of the coop. At six weeks and five days, Marigold's orange-and-white feathers are matched by that telltale croak, while Dolly is still playing it cool with just the comb. I'm betting you've got two roosters on your hands, which is either a double dose of chaos or double the fun. Your story about losing last year's roo Huxton broke my heart, RIP, you escape artist.
A cluck-tastically heartbreaking day as we say goodbye to Lulu and Olive
Today we're mourning Lulu and Olive, two feathered friends taken far too soon by loose dogs in the backyard. Lulu was the last of our OG chickens, a puffy-cheeked sweetheart who loved being held and laid pretty pink eggs with a trumpet-like voice. And Olive? That sassy Barred Rock came to us as a bully and never gave up her top spot in the pecking order. She'd peck you in the backside if you looked away during egg collection, but she was also a fierce protector. She even won Best in Show at our 4H Fair. Our other chickens are battered but safe, thankfully, though we've got a gaping hole in our hearts.
One loose foot of wire cost me three years of hens and a whole pen
One loose foot of wire cost me three years of hens and a whole pen. That's the kind of heartbreak that makes you want to triple-check every hinge, latch, and corner of your coop until your fingers go raw. This person lost 28 birds in a single night, over half their flock, to a bobcat that squeezed through a tiny gap in a 400-square-foot run. They had Rhode Island Reds, Barred Rocks, Jersey Giants, Leghorns, Olive Eggers, Black Australorps, and it still didn't matter. The predator pushed through fastened mesh and hog panel like it was nothing. It's a brutal reminder that our feathered friends are fragile, and our defenses need to be ruthless.
Tractor Supply says Barred Rock, but who's really clucking calling the shots?
So, Tractor Supply said Barred Rock, but at six weeks old, this little lady is already giving off some serious "who's really clucking calling the shots?" energy. I mean, sure, the label says one thing, but have you seen the attitude on her? I'm all for a good feathered mystery, and honestly, the suspense is half the fun. It's like she knows she's got us all guessing, and she's loving every second of it. Whether she turns out to be a classic or a delightful surprise, one thing's for sure: she's already got the personality to rule the roost.
My Marans are Fowl Play: Are They Secretly Australorps?
Well, color me cluck-tastic, but this is a feathery pickle if I've ever seen one! So, our friend here brought home some Copper Marans chicks, and now they're doing a double-take, wondering if they accidentally brought home Australorps instead. I mean, one hen even has feathery feet, which is a classic Maran move, but the rest? Not so much. Honestly, I love this for them. There's nothing better than realizing your flock is a delightful mystery box of fowl play. It's like the universe said, "You wanted chickens? Here's a surprise party!" And honestly, who cares about the label when they're all happy and running up to you for treats?