All to Cock

I do have a bit of a reputation with our vet for not being able to tell the sex of an animal. For some reason she chooses to remind me every time we meet of the time that I took to her surgery a pet rabbit with a badly ruptured penis and found that he was in fact giving birth. I returned home with a box full of kittens, a much relieved she rabbit and a very red face. Then just as she was beginning to forget this I took a female cat to be spayed and found I had a male cat for castration.

So add to this inability the likelihood of the militia pulling a fast one whenever muggins pops along to buy some new stock there is always the potential for new disasters, like poultry. The geese bought last November turn out not to be as promised three geese and a gander, but rather three ganders and a very tired goose. The long range chickens have had their wanderlust curtailed by the building of Stalag 15, a fox proof enclosure which has so far served to keep the wretched fox out and the bird brains in. They have plotted escapes, I removed a bucket they were using as a vaulting horse and refused a request for gardening equipment. I did see a magnificent effort to fly out, but this was thwarted by a distinct lack of ability, the aerodynamics of a house brick and a seemingly unnoticed until the critical moment overhanging tree branch. The dazed bird watched in disgust as I removed the branch just in case it was later used as a jump off point.

As the long rangers are now up close all the time I have had for a while my doubts as to the gender of one of the Light Sussex Hens. Boris the bastard rules the roost, launching attacks on any one he takes a dislike to, which is in effect everyone. He came with three wives, lovely looking birds, so lovely that the fox claimed two before the completion of Stalag 15. He now has four Warrens, a Cob cross Black Rock special, two Black Welsh hens and one Light Sussex to keep him entertained. Except the Light Sussex Hen has a gender issue, looking quite male. Today we got conclusive proof that the hen was in fact a cock. While Boris was having his evil way with one of the Black Welsh hens the impostor hen was getting on top of things with a Warren the other side of the coup. So once again I have been ripped off, but on the other hand I do have a Coq au Vin to look forward to!