Oh to be a Teenager

My gawky babies of the spring are now all grown up. Of the 6 eggs I hatched, 3 survived, and all 3 are cockerels... good job I bought some more adult hens this summer. I'm far too much of a softy to get rid of them just because they don't lay eggs. 

They spend most of their time hanging around together. The more mature ladies find them far too brash and exuberent, and the older cockerels will have nothing to do with the wippersnappers. 

They've also discovered the delights of girls, and as a result have been harassing the ladies, and then run off when caught in the act by the older cockerels. They are a trio of sex pests. Most of the hens don't want to know and will just turn tail, or even give them a good pecking. 

This however, is Penny. Penny doesn't do saying no. Not a day goes by when Penny doens't have to be rescued from underneath a pile of exuberent black cockerels who all think she's the best thing since sliced bread. This afternoon Big Bird was standing on her facing one way, and then Millar got in on the act as well by standing on her head. Subtle, they are not.

This is Big Bird. He's Cav's son, Cav was my tame accidental Polish who blundered around getting confused by everything, and was happiest when sat on your lap being hand fed. She was killed on the road last spring. Big Bird has no such issues. A more brash cockerel you could not hope to find. 

They've also found all the good spots to hang out. Dad's workshop is nice and dry, and comes complete witha tame human who provides a regular supply of corn. They've even been known to sit on the shelf by his lathe watching him turn. Lets hope they don't fall off or it might be a very fast form of rotisserie chicken!