I have been a chicken farmer long enough now to know that chickens have a certain etiquette that they must follow. During feeding times it becomes a free-for-all, with feathers flying everywhere, and beaks slashing at whatever they can reach first. If you have twenty hens and one rooster, the poor old chap won't get a bite to eat because he's either too much of a gentleman to interrupt the ladies, or he's too protective of his own hide to try. He will usually stand forlornly out of the way doing a little dance that I like to call, "don't peck my toes, please. I may use them later."
I usually end up feeling sorry for the old boy and I'll hand him a special bite. Yes, he's a friendly rooster who will eat out of your hand. He has to be, it's a form of survival. Hens are always hungry, and even if you are offering a special treat to the rooster, he will step back and watch his prize go down the throats of his little women. I get annoyed with him sometimes because he will take food from my hand and then drop it, so the hens can have it. This bugs me, but it's the way roosters are. They are such providers to their many wives. If they weren't the "wives" would sit on the back fence and gossip about them all day long.
One day I brought out a very special treat, old bread. They don't get this too often so when they do, it's toss the bread and stand back. I saved some for the rooster, and the first piece I gave him, he dropped, only to have it stolen. He stood there for a moment, tasting and smacking his beak, and then it dawned on him that this treat tasted pretty good. The second piece he took from my hand was a big chunk but he downed the whole thing himself, tipping his head back to get it all down. The hens looked on enviously, and I knew the old feller was due for some lecturing later on.
He didn't care though. I gave him more bread and he downed it with enthusiasm, making sure not to drop even a crumb for the ladies to get. For once in his rooster life the poor thing was being selfish, and the girls couldn't understand what had come over him, for you see it is his job to be certain that they eat, even if he is on the verge of starvation himself. Talk about ladies lib. This tendency keeps the girls happy and keeps his drumsticks from getting pecked to pieces.
Protecting his McNuggets is the only form of defense a rooster has against the hungry hordes, so he will do his little footsie dance and side-step them as they dive-bomb the food. He figures if the girls don't try to eat him he has done his job and kept them full. He spends his day, scratching in the dirt, looking for grubs and worms and if he finds one he clucks that special call, jumps back and watches the hens kill each other over it. I never see him eat a worm himself without clucking a word, because if he did that, he might discover that worms taste pretty good, and then he would not want to provide solely for the ladies.
Fear is what keeps the rooster alive, day after day. Fear for his own neck, when us humans are around, (Friendly roosters live longer) fear for his hide when the hens are hungry, and fear that just once he might screw up and swallow the worm and that would be the end of the old boy. So he does his best to keep the girls fed and happy, even flirting with them from time to time to keep the old vinegar up, and the girls do their level best to keep themselves happy, selfish women that they are.
So you see, ladies, there really are some gentlemen left in this world, who would give their lives in devotion to you and you alone, or at least to you and half the continent, even if they do reside in the animal kingdom. Keep your heads held high and soon enough you will find the "rooster" of your dreams, the man who would just love to put you first in his life. Well, at least we can dream, can't we?
