It's hard to believe that this was once a small, gangly poult. I loved that tweenie stage. They would run after me and gingerly take bread from my fingers. Now, they are likely to take the fingers (by accident, of course). They are the most fascinating animals - from their candlewax-like carbuncles, to their adjustable snood. Amazing. But LOUD. I had bought the two as a breeding pair, but soon had to change Georgia to Georgie. When spring arrives, everything/one gets stirred up and there is no room for brotherhood. Someone always has to be on top.
Unfortunately, in their case, they need to be on top of everything with feathers. This does not work out well when the weight ration is 15:1. I just happened to walk outside as Georgie tried to mount one of my small hens. All I could see were a few golden feathers and a gasping, squeaky noise. More drama! They are now on the fast-list to freezer camp. One of the many things I have learned in the four+ years of doing this homesteading thing, is that not everything works out the way you planned. That is especially true with livestock. I went through my quail stage - determined to make my fortune raising them from eggs and selling both eggs and processed birds. They were a snap to incubate and grew amazingly fast. But they were LOUD. (Are we seeing a trend here?) The male quail will let out an alarmingly loud pealing cry at any time of the day or night. Preferably around 2 a.m. And the way I have my livestock operation set up (using the term very loosely), that put them almost right outside of my bedroom window. I think that I have learned my lesson and will stick with the tried, trued and truly loved - chickens and ducks. Please remind me I said this after the April 25 Poultry Swap.