Today DH is culling the our two beautiful Silver Laced Barnevelder boys, Mutt and Geoff. We had managed to run the two boys together in the same flock, because Barnevelders can be very laid back lads and it's sometimes possible to run two hatchmate boys together. Ours got on well, and they had a big enough harem to minimise conflict.
The Boys are stressed at the loss of their Girls. We can't bring them home. Even one cockerel would be too noisy, and our neighbours are already tolerating the noise arising from the Allotmenteer girls arriving, and the resulting fights and squabbles.
It's not just a problem that the boys are stressed without the Girls. We run the risk that the thieves will be back. If they take the boys, then the very best we could hope for would be that they were culled for food. The worst would be that they would be used to train cocks for cockfighting, which is often the fate of cockerels, advertised as free to good home, who are collected by the most respectable looking people.
At least if we cull them ourselves, we can make sure that their end is a stress free and painless as possible.
The loss of the stock at the allotment will have consequences over and above that for the stolen chickens, the cuylled boys, the uprooted Allotmenteer girls, and the displaced Garden Girls
It was a focal point for DH, something he had to go out and do. It was exercise, it was calming. It was something for us to have disagreements and agreements about. Plnning the annual hatching and managing the transition was a large part of our summers and autumn. It was a big part of our time with Miss Tween, and we would swap Allotment days so they coincided with her staying.
Not just us, either. It was something for the Other Chap to focus on, his exercise walking to the allotment and back. Something to share with his grandchildren. He has just been released from being housebound after 6 weeks, and had been looking forward to resuming his share of the allotment duties.
Those poor boys. I cried for them, even more than I cried for the poor girls who were taken.
There was no excuse for what the scum did. There are plently of chickens in Asda, and they are cheap.
They saved themselves maybe £10. The cost to us, (and the boys, of course) is immeasurable.
