Scruffy is still with us. I took several photos yesterday and swear I’ll post one… sometime… one of these days… He may have earned his keep a few days ago.
Ron didn’t get a good look so there are a lot of maybes here, but Ron thought he saw a red-tailed hawk flying pretty low over the orchard where the chickens wander around outside. As it turned out, the Big Girl Posse–Daisy, Ella, Caroline, Nony, and Pippi–were already in the coop, but the little girls (who are now bigger than some of the so-called big girls… need to work on their nicknames here…) were outside. Upon seeing the hawk, maybe Scruffy quickly herded the little girls into the coop. Maybe Scruffy stood watch by the door. Maybe Scruffy was trying to protect his little flock of three–Beaker, Cleo, and Hawkeye.
Of course, this is the very same chicken–nay, shall I remind dear reader, rooster–who still runs away from the Big Girls whenever they get within a few feet of him.
With the exception of the possible flock defense, Scruffy doesn’t seem to be doing much. If he did try to protect the chickens, then he may be worth all the feed he’s eating. And he’s eating a lot because he’s turned into a rather big chicken. He’s about twice the size of the hens.
And yet, he is a big chicken in both senses: large chicken and major wimp. But it appears he may have set aside his royal wimpiness, at least temporarily, and tried to protect “his” hens.
Scruffy’s future remains uncertain, especially if he starts to crow loudly or act like a big jerk (instead of a big wimp). But, although he’s now over five months old and roosters supposedly reach sexual maturity around five months, we have no evidence of a single crow or really mean behavior with the hens. Indeed, his odds of sticking around go up if he keeps up being: Scruffy, Protector.