As I mentioned recently, we don’t have land yet. We don’t have a farm yet and we definitely, definitely don’t have a rooster. But we will and he already has a name – Harold. Harold may not even be alive yet, but he is already part of our family and we already don’t like him.
Matt & I were talking the other night about what animals we want to have on our homestead and we both agreed that along with the hens, we’ll need a rooster. But our only real experience with a rooster was on vacation a few years ago in the Smoky Mountains, when a rooster woke us up every single morning around 5:00 am and throughout the day sauntered back and forth just out of reach of a chained up dog, so that the dog basically had a continuous heart attack all day long trying to catch the rooster. As we were discussing this memory, Matt said he could just imagine us being woken up before the sunrise and having to yell “Harrrrrooooollllllllddddd!!!!”
So there you have it. We have a rooster. His name is Harold and he isn’t very well liked. He never really even had a chance, poor Harold.