My Mighty Fumm

CLUCK, CLUCK, CLUCK!!!

So it NEVER fails! I carefully select one special chick... someone who really stands out...that is very different from the rest of the new flock, and it turns out to be a rooster. It must some crazy chicken version of Murphy's Law...picking out one special hen will automatically mean that chicken will be a dude.

Dude. Like. Seriously?

Or it relates to that saying, "You make plans and God laughs." Yes...I know this very well...in terms of chicken keeping anyway.

As I've mentioned before, this year we are trying Bantams. Back in March when we selected Flock 3 from the feed store, I got the brilliant idea to get these tiny guys and name them after the giants in the movie we saw the night before. I was too enthralled by giving them a complex, how funny it would be to all of my readers and imagining all the creativity these "runts" would spark in me, that I ignored the sign on the box stating these chicks were not sexed...so getting all hens was not a guarantee...and the words of warning from Dan a box away. I was blinded by humor and passion.

I named each Bantam as I plucked it from the box..."Look honey," I giggled overcome with the hilarious irony of it all. "This one will be Fee...this one will be Fye...this one is Foe and this one...this little yellow one will be Fumm. We'll know which one is Fumm because it's the only yellow one." (I had already given up on having a Cadburry. After all, it would probably be another rooster and I can't have two roosters named Cad-Buddy!)

As time went on and we watched our little fluffies grow, we noticed a few things. First of all, Flock 3 is so different than any other we've had so far because they are all ornery. I have a feeling this will be our most entertaining and handful of chickens we've had to date. Even without 24/7 brooder confinement, they like to "fight" one another. Fumm has always been one to pick a fight with a chick twice his size. I just figured Bantams have "little-man syndrome" and thus the 'tude.

I'll still stand by that statement. I figure as time goes by I'll be validated over and over again!

Another noticeable difference? THREE separate distinctive crows coming from the brooder! That's right...Flock 3 presented us with 3 rooster chicks! (As of right now, we have 5 roosters on the Shawhan farm...though soon that will change!) There's nothing like the combined horror and downright humor you feel while standing in the barn and hearing those first and sorry attempts of a rooster crow. You are filled with dread, disappointment and an overwhelming urge to pee your pants because it's the funniest thing you've ever heard. nothing is so pathetic sounding! What amazes me the most was how over-achieving these guys are! I'm not sure we've detected a rooster this early on by his crows...Cad-Buddy took FOREVER to come out as a rooster! (I might be they hear Chicken Hawk and cad-Buddy and so want to respond...I'm not sure...just a guess.)

Anyhoo, we had a sinking feeling that Fumm was a rooster since he developed his comb and wattles pretty quickly and they were quite pronounced. He also had the 'tude to match. Dan has said we should just get rid of him, but I say no way! He's going to give me so inspiration and his character is going to come out in probably more ways than Fog Horn! I NEED him!

And what a character (not to mention an over-achiever) he already is! Fumm has achieved more feats than any other chick, and some chickens, ever to set foot on the Shawhan farm. He has escaped the mini-kennel we have set up for the chicks and has explored the hay mow and overhead boards of our barn. That is where the above photo was taken. I walked out one morning to put Jimmy and Charlie back out in the pasture for the day and I heard his little body-shaking crow (it's funny to watch him "crow" though I fear he'll strain his little body and get a hernia) above my head. I looked up and there he was, high in the rafters!

 

"FUMM!?" I awe and disbelief. I raced as fast and safely as my prego-body would allow inside to get the camera and make a phone call. I had to record this! What a bird I have! I can only imagine what he's going to be like as he gets older. When I got back to the barn he was even higher up, in the hay mow over Jimmy's stall. I got a little worried that the neighborhood cat, Marshmellow, would get him and eat him as a mid-morning snack, and I also feared the little dude would have the nerve to go over to the big boys and pay them a visit. I think some of our older hens from Flock 1 could sit on him and kill him...I'm not sure he even weighs a pound!

There wasn't much I could do...no way was going up there after him. It would be a huge waste of time and money to make it so he can't get out that way again. A simple trim of the wings might help, but we have yet to do that. Later on that day he was back in the safety of the mini-kennel. I have seen him out on his adventures since and somehow he manages to get back down. I guess I won't worry too much about him. So far he's the only one brave enough to venture out.

I only imagine what the weeks, months and years will bring us with this little guy. So little but with a HUGE attitude! I look forward to it all!


                                                                                               ...cluck... cluck... cluck...