New Cock on the Block: Introducing Casanova
When you keep hens for eggs you learn to read your eggs for information on the well-being of your flock. You begin to notice variations in the colour, shape and thickness of the shell, the consistency of the white and the yellowness of the yolk. Shortly after the fall of Beelzebub I noticed something very strange about my eggs – something that should no longer be possible. Most of them were fertilised.
Given that we had eaten Beelzebub I was certain that he was no longer servicing my girls, so I went outside to investigate. I found the girls in a far corner of the garden in the company of an unknown, and rather handsome, young cock. It turns out this guy is one of 5 or 6 cocks in our neighbours’ flock. Given that the other boys are older and wiser, he probably doesn’t get a look in with the girls in his own flock. Not to be outdone, the clever boy has come next door for a bit of action.
They’ll never see me here. I am one with the strawberry planter.
Unlike his predecessor, Casanova has yet to find his imperious aplomb. Like a pubescent teen at his first school dance, he skulks in corners waiting for his opportunity to pounce. When an opportunity presents itself he dashes from his hiding place, does his deed and runs for cover.
Being the heartthrob to a bevy of eleven beauties seems to have given his confidence a boost and, little by little, he is integrating himself into the flock. He forages with the girls, peppered, of course, with plenty of dessert. I even found him in the run, scratching at the prize pickings from our scraps bucket. Though I was never a fan of Beelzebub I was always fascinated by how chivalrous he was when it came to food. The girls always ate first – no exceptions – at he would eat what was left. Not so for our young Casanova – he has more of a “what’s yours is mine” philosophy.
Ok, soldier, time to brave up.
Right – I’m out. She looks nice.
I’m nonchalant, everything’s cool.
Maybe now’s a good time.
Check that none of the boys are around…
I had enjoyed the peaceful mornings after the fall of Beelzebub. The silence was short-lived, however. Casanova arrives at the crack of dawn to woo his concubines. We don’t let them out to forage until after lunch to ensure we don’t miss out on any eggs. Casanova paces a trail outside the run until the hour arrives. By the time that door finally swings open he is hot to trot, causing a literal scattering of the hens as he makes a dive for the slow or oblivious.
…and ACTION!
Victory dance! Go me, go me!
I suppose I’d better hang out with her for a little while.
RIght – that’s enough of that.
I’ll just sneak off – they won’t even notice.
Phew! Back to safety.
Despite his stealthy and somewhat frenzied approach, the girls seem to like him. As do I. For now, at least. He seems quite timid and hasn’t shown any signs of aggression towards me. As long as that remains the case I’m happy to let him escort my girls.
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Have you been filming this?
Humph!
My Food Odyssey 
That is so funny…love it.
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Wow, he sure is pretty! 🙂
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Love this post. I could not keep from laughing on my couch as I read your “subtitles” for Casanova. He seems to be quite the ladies man 🙂
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He’s very entertaining to watch, that’s for sure!
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I hope he cuddles them afterwards 😉
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Shake and bake, Dude knows where the action is at your house. You got some good looking chickens in that neck of the woods. Seriously. I thought Beelzebub was something to see. No wonder your girls are all a’flutter. Never boring on the farm, huh? 😉
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Never boring is right, Susan! Those hens really keep me entertained.
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June,
Excuse my ignorance but what’s the difference between fertilized eggs and unfertilized ones in terms of what they look like when you crack them open? In the states all the eggs at the grocery are unfertilized. Also, that cock is quite handsome, no wonder your girls like him! My kids would LOVE to get some chickens as pets but with our travel schedule, we have enough trouble finding someone to watch our cat and dog, I can’t add chickens to the mix. Living vicariously through you….
Laurel
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Hi Laurel. The fertilised yolks have a small white dot in the centre or just off centre, like this: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/375769162636205857/.
Hens are probably easier to “hand off” to someone to mind than a dog as they don’t need to be walked – they just need food and water. They are another responsibility though. Glad you’re enjoying my hens!
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Jasus’…I never knew that. I don’t feel too well…Ah Jasus…I’ll never eat another egg, in fact I’ll never eat another chicken. Sometimes you’re just better off not knowing somethings! 🙂
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If you buy your eggs in the supermarket, Gary, you’ll never get a fertlised egg!
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You’ve gotta admire Cockanova’s bold & brazen strategy… AND he enjoys his food… clearly appreciates the good things in life… you two are bound to bond 🙂
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Interesting, Simone. Maybe that’s why I like him so much!
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I think he may well be your avian soul mate…
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We have a new rooster, too. And like you, our former rooster, Henry, was much too people aggressive and never fertilized one egg in six months. He’s no longer with us. We’ll see how Malfoy works out. If he fertilizes eggs, he’s got a future. We know how to deal with rooster aggression.
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Malfoy? As in Draco?! I’m not sure that name is a good omen – Draco Malfoy was evil and cocky! (Although he did come good in the end.) Yep, only one way to deal with rooster aggression – into the pot you go!
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Cocky bastard.
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Oh I do so love this post. And what a handsome cock he is; a touch of Don Juan about him but I think Casanova suits him perfectly. Looks like there will be some happy hens about the place.
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If hens could smile, Aud, there’d be ear-to-ear grins around our back garden!
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Oh dear me, this all seems so familiar. It’s a bit like the Sepp Blatter story…corrupt gangster gets his comeuppance and in comes the new blood, the fair haired boy (or ginger in this case) Michel Platini, at first the savourer, then it sinks in…the chickens come home to roost one might say… they are the one and same…’The King is dead. Long live the King’! If only this guy knew his fate…he’d give your little beauties a miss and join the Chicken Priesthood.
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I don’t know, Gary – better to have loved and lost (died) than not to have loved at all. 😉 This guy comes from a family that has no problem dispatching wayward chickens. I reckon he’s packing in as much action as he can while the going is good!
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name of Casanova is very befitting this fellow. And as long as the guest does not go all berserk on you and minds his manners… 😀
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Thanks Asta. I was calling him Romeo at first but then I saw him in action and had to change to Casanova!
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No, Romeo would not work at all. For Romeo there should be at a balcony and only one girl 😉 Casanova is so much better – it fits the loverboy role and the whole ‘I’m just visiting so will help myself to the best scraps as any decent guest should do’ act. Breakfast with Tiffany aka girl of the day (or is it lunch?) included 😀
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