Warning: Do not read this if you think chickens are pets.
With all this brouhaha going on in the British royal family with the Duke and Duchess of Sussex I thought today’s story fitted into the slot. The picture is of my rooster and hen. (A red hen has got into the photo but we shall ignore her).
The rooster and hen are of a special breed of poultry called “Coronation Sussex”. They are called that because they were developed from a breed of chicken called “Sussex” and were developed to mark an important coronation jubilee celebrated at some stage by the late Queen of England. Presumably she had had so many jubilees that the ordinary run-of-the-mill subjects were running out of ideas and a new breed of chicken was a grand idea to mark the occasion.
In real life they are actually quite beautiful: pure white with a gorgeous grey tail and neck. After finding the breed online and where to get some fertile eggs I drove for 3 hours to pick the eggs up and 3 hours to return. (This is before the price of petroleum sky-rocketed).
A dozen chickens hatched and six were hens and six were roosters. I kept the handsomest rooster and the other roosters went into the pot.
Before long the rooster grew nasty and vicious. No one could pass through the yard without getting attacked. At feeding time I had to walk backwards holding a stick in order to prevent the rooster from drawing blood. The breed might have looked lovely but their personalities were not my cup of tea.
I bet you too that the late queen had no idea that the Sussexes would cause such trouble. My solution was simple and effective. I pass it on to King Charles for his consideration. It has royal precedence. I chopped the strutting cockerel’s head off.