roost
roost at Alektorophobia is a file of 7 stories. The newest of them: “Two feathered bachelors who'd rather snuggle than chase hens”, “This rooster's pose is so ridiculous it's almost fowl play”, and “Feathered Friends Finally Fowl-Play Us With a First Molt”. Meet my two feathered bachelors, seven-month-old roosters who'd rather snuggle than chase hens. Oh, this rooster. Chickens. Everything there is to know about chickens and the fear of them. The list below is every roost story on Alektorophobia, newest first.
Two feathered bachelors who'd rather snuggle than chase hens
Meet my two feathered bachelors, seven-month-old roosters who'd rather snuggle than chase hens. These silly guys hang out together, roost together, and have zero interest in the ladies beyond being friendly flockmates. The oldest rooster (last image) doesn't mind them one bit. Usually, we'd rehome young roosters earlier, but these two have been remarkably calm. It's like they formed their own little bachelor pad in the coop. Sometimes the best fowl play is just vibing with your best buddy. If you've ever struggled with coop dynamics, our guide on beating frozen water buckets might help keep your whole flock comfortable through winter.
This rooster's pose is so ridiculous it's almost fowl play
Oh, this rooster. That pose. It's giving majestic, it's giving confused, and honestly? It's giving a little bit of fowl play. The angle is so ridiculous I half expect this bird to be auditioning for a soap opera. You can't tell me he doesn't know exactly what he's doing, striking a dramatic stance like he's about to deliver a soliloquy about the price of feed. I love him, but I also kind of side-eye him. If you're trying to figure out whether your own bird is having a clucky identity crisis, check out our piece on that very predicament. This rooster is pure chaos, and I am here for every feather-ruffling second.
Feathered Friends Finally Fowl-Play Us With a First Molt
Well, cluck me sideways, a first molt is quite the feathery milestone, isn't it? Watching your red-mix start to look a little worse for wear while your frost legbar joins the party uninvited is enough to make any chicken parent do a double-take. It sounds like you've got a classic case of the fowl-weather blues, but those watery morning droppings have us both scratching our heads. It's a relief to hear they're still eating, even if your voracious legbar is suddenly playing hard to get with her feed. This whole less-appetite, less-droppings combo actually tracks with a molt, since their bodies are putting all that energy into growing feathers instead of, well, other things.
My Rooster Vanished, and I Panic-Searched Until I Broke the Fence
There's a special kind of chaos that comes with loving chickens, and this tale? Pure, unadulterated fowl play. After hours of frantic searching, complete with a hole punched in the fence and a voice hoarse from yelling into the night, this poor soul accepted the worst. They collapsed in tears, mourning their feathered friend, only to shuffle inside and find the little escape artist snoozing in the laundry basket. In the bathroom. The audacity! It's the kind of plot twist that makes you want to scream, cry, and maybe check the dirty clothes pile yourself. Honestly, I'm surprised the rooster didn't get a one-way ticket to a soup pot.
Building a Buffet of Cozy Nooks for My Patient Feathered Ladies
There's something oddly polite about a chicken who waits her turn. I'm mid-project, building another nesting box for my flock, and honestly? I'm impressed. They line up, patient as can be, like they've got nowhere to roost and all day to get there. It's equal parts adorable and a little ridiculous, which is exactly how I like my feathered friends. I get it, though, that quiet anticipation before the big moment. It's not just about the egg; it's about the ritual. If you're new to this chicken life, you'll learn real quick that patience isn't just a virtue, it's a cluck-tastic skill. And for the record, my hens have mastered it way better than I ever could.
This Silent Rooster Won't Crow or Court His Hens: What's Up?
Well, here's the thing about our fine feathered friend: a rooster who's stopped crowing and courting is basically a CEO who's stopped attending board meetings. He's still wandering the office, pointing at the water cooler, and being a total hall monitor to the other hens, but the big job? Nope. Not happening. Honestly, that sneezing has me raising an eyebrow. A little respiratory hiccup can knock the wind right out of a young rooster's spurs, so to speak. At 10-11 months old, he's still figuring out his place, and being separated after a bloody brawl probably didn't boost his confidence either. He might just be sulking, or he might be feeling under the weather. Keep an eye on that sneeze.
This feathered fence-crasher needs help, not just a chicken dinner
Well, a mystery guest has taken up residence on your fence, and honestly, that's a cluck-tastic plot twist for your Tuesday. This guy sounds like he's got a bit of a rough story, what with the one eye and those little wing wounds. It's totally fair to be a bit wary, no one wants their kids to get sick from a surprise visitor. The good news is, if he's friendly and just hanging out, he's likely more scared than scary. You're not wrong to be cautious, but a rooster in this condition isn't exactly a predator. He's probably just looking for a safe spot to rest. If you're worried about germs, practicing basic hand-washing after any close encounters is a solid start.