Hens Don't Crow

I'm always amazed how often I turn out to be wrong about something.

I mean, I know we're all wrong from time to time. It happens to the best of us. But I typically take wrong to the extreme. 

Let me give you a for instance. See this bird?

It's name is Miss Janet. 

See? Next level wrong. But I digress. 

The other day, Justin, Buggy Boy and I went out to the coop to visit the chickens and bring them some leftover watermelon. As we looked at them, we began saying out loud what we've been thinking for a couple of weeks now.

Those hens look an awful lot like roosters. 

BUT, we assured ourselves, roosters crow. And these chickens don't crow. Never. Not once. (I know you can already tell where this is going.)

Cut to literally five minutes later when we were heading back from the garden and we heard it. The crow to end all crows. 

Aaaand now we have roosters. 

Two of them. 

Unfortunately, we want nothing to do with roosters. We're only in it for the eggs, and we happen to have a toddler whose grabbiness rivals that of a drunken frat boy. The last thing I need to worry about is him coming eye to eye with a potentially aggressive rooster to practice using his "gentle hands." 

Full disclosure: they're never gentle.  

Luckily for us (and for the roosters), a friend of a friend has a farm a few miles down the road and takes in orphaned hens-turned-roosters. Apparently this happens a lot. Go figure.

So now Miss Janet and his friend Dion are living out the remainder of their non-egg producing lives running around happily on a big farm with lots of other unwanted animals. 

At least that's where Justin told me he took them. 

That's probably true, right?