If you’ve been following my blog for the past few months, you may remember Harriet. She has been our favorite chicken from the start (If you want to see her baby pictures HERE they are). A couple of months ago we started to notice that Harriet was looking different than our other two barred rock hens. Her coloring is lighter and her feathers are different as well. She also started to develop her red hangy downs (as I call them) prematurely in comparison to the other hens. I thought she must be defective in some way because she is a bit smaller than the other two barred rocks as well. I was visiting the other day with the lady we buy our eggs from and I was describing Harriet to her and the fact that she seems sort of gimpy. She suggested that maybe she was another breed altogether.
Well, yesterday I was watching her scratch around in my flower beds when she did the funniest thing. I don’t know much about chickens, but as far as I do know, the girl chickens don’t say “cock-a-doodle doo.” I stared at my sweet Harriet for a minute and then she did it again. It took a minute for the horror to really take hold. Harriet… a rooster? But she can’t be! Is there such thing as a girl rooster? Well, there is at our house because there is no way we can get used to the fact that she isn’t a girl. She’s much nicer than our australorp roosters who have already started attacking both us and the hens.
Just to be certain, Jonny and I googled barred rock rooster and sure enough the roosters look just like Harriet.
So out of 27 chickens, our favorite, and the only one with a name, isn’t who we thought she was.
I am not sure how we are going to get over this. For right now we are just taking it one day at a time and we are still calling her a she. The kids have suggested that we change her name to Harry, but I don’t think we can bear to.
To me, she’ll always be Harriet.