I've had many people ask why I'd move from California, back to Oklahoma. Usually I tell em "Because of housing costs" etc, but that's not exactly true.
After wandering the country for many years, I moved to Taft, CA. A small oil town just west of Bakersfield; it's original name was "Moron". I fit right in.
I rented a place on an acre and proceeded to fill it up with goats, horses and chickens. Now I like to have chickens. Not only for the fresh eggs, but the different colors of the different breeds, has a certain beauty. Kinda a "Floral Fowl" arrangement.
The one thing I was missing was a rooster, but I was told of some folks who had many and would sell me one.
When we walked out back, I saw a buncha hens running around in the backyard. Off to one side was a dog pen where the roosters were housed. There musta been twenty roosters there and I should have suspected something wrong, with any birds that had to be incarcerated.
I saw one, pretty fellow that would fit right in with my fowl color scheme and after handing the lady my five dollars, was told to jump right in there and catch that critter.
It being a hot day; I came out of there covered in sweat, feathers and chicken poop, but I had my rooster.
Put him in a box, I'd brought, stuck him in the bed of my truck and listened to him scream all the way home.
When I turned him in with the hens, he ran away from them. I figured it was because he was in an unfamilar place and he'd adjust in a few days. Oh. He "adjusted" alright. He'd peck at the hens and every chance he got, he'd sit under my bedroom window and scream.
Named him "Mickey"; like in "Mickey, the loudmouthed bastid" and I'm starting to envision Fried Mickey, Mickey Stew and Murdered Mickey. Then I noticed that he had stopped pecking at the hens, though he still didn't have much to do with them. Maybe he was coming around.
One day I go out to gather eggs and I find Mickey setting on the nest.
Odd, but I didn't think much about it at the time. Then, I noticed that after one of the hens laid an egg, Mickey would get on the nest, sit awhile, then jump off and cackle, like it was him who laid it.
Putting all of this together, plus the fact that he had spent his whole life living with roosters and didn't "like" girls, I realized that I had a pervert living in my henhouse.
My neighbors at the time was a couple of "guys" living together. When I mentioned Mickey's odd ways to one of them, he told me that Mickey was a New Age Rooster (NAR) and was "intouch with his feminine side".
It took less than two weeks for me to give all the critters away and leave California.
After wandering the country for many years, I moved to Taft, CA. A small oil town just west of Bakersfield; it's original name was "Moron". I fit right in.
I rented a place on an acre and proceeded to fill it up with goats, horses and chickens. Now I like to have chickens. Not only for the fresh eggs, but the different colors of the different breeds, has a certain beauty. Kinda a "Floral Fowl" arrangement.
The one thing I was missing was a rooster, but I was told of some folks who had many and would sell me one.
When we walked out back, I saw a buncha hens running around in the backyard. Off to one side was a dog pen where the roosters were housed. There musta been twenty roosters there and I should have suspected something wrong, with any birds that had to be incarcerated.
I saw one, pretty fellow that would fit right in with my fowl color scheme and after handing the lady my five dollars, was told to jump right in there and catch that critter.
It being a hot day; I came out of there covered in sweat, feathers and chicken poop, but I had my rooster.
Put him in a box, I'd brought, stuck him in the bed of my truck and listened to him scream all the way home.
When I turned him in with the hens, he ran away from them. I figured it was because he was in an unfamilar place and he'd adjust in a few days. Oh. He "adjusted" alright. He'd peck at the hens and every chance he got, he'd sit under my bedroom window and scream.
Named him "Mickey"; like in "Mickey, the loudmouthed bastid" and I'm starting to envision Fried Mickey, Mickey Stew and Murdered Mickey. Then I noticed that he had stopped pecking at the hens, though he still didn't have much to do with them. Maybe he was coming around.
One day I go out to gather eggs and I find Mickey setting on the nest.
Odd, but I didn't think much about it at the time. Then, I noticed that after one of the hens laid an egg, Mickey would get on the nest, sit awhile, then jump off and cackle, like it was him who laid it.
Putting all of this together, plus the fact that he had spent his whole life living with roosters and didn't "like" girls, I realized that I had a pervert living in my henhouse.
My neighbors at the time was a couple of "guys" living together. When I mentioned Mickey's odd ways to one of them, he told me that Mickey was a New Age Rooster (NAR) and was "intouch with his feminine side".
It took less than two weeks for me to give all the critters away and leave California.
.i believe boatloads of californians have moved there.