This is Lucius.
Lucius is a Speckled Sussex, and is my favorite chicken.
I remember when Lu was nothing but a tuft of downy fluff, asleep inside my sweater, just ten weeks ago. How quickly they grow!
Last week, it became apparent that Lu is not who we supposed her to be.
Lu is a rooster.
Here’s what roosters do: they crow. They also chase you. They also peck your toes. Here’s what roosters do not do: they do not lay eggs.
Thus, Lucius will be leaving our flock on Wednesday, when he will go back to the farm (though how I will transport a discombobulated rooster across the county is a problem I have not yet solved—I doubt he will ride along peacefully on my lap) and I am sad to see him go. He is sweet, and his tail feathers are beautiful, iridescent green and luscious, and getting more vibrant by the day. He’s always the first to greet me in the morning—because he’s a rooster, and that’s what they do. (I feel rather dumb for being so slow to figure it out—I kept thinking, aw, lookit her, she’s the prettiest one! Her tail feathers are sooooo long! She’s developing so early! Duh.)
Au revoir, Lu. You’re the man.