We keep chickens - and we enjoy keeping chickens. We bought them young, got them settled in, waited for them to mature. They're fun to watch. They have personalities. They're easy to look after and deliver delicious free range eggs. BUT, how do we stop Basil (the Welsummer cockerel) from crowing at 5:20 in the a.m.?
After his arrival and under our keen observation, Basil developed beautifully. Gradually his feathers grew in length and fullness; a spectacular array of oranges, blues, greens, deep reds and browns. Wonderful plumage! His bright red crest and wattles bloomed mightily. And, ironically, we couldn't wait for him to start crowing...
His immature efforts were considerably less than satisfactory. The expected and hoped-for traditional cock-a-doodle-do was not only croaky, like a pre-pubescent Rod Stewart suffering laryngitis, but also somewhat garbled. More of a cuck-a-doooo-durrrr. He was often chastised for these miserable efforts and told frequently that he must do better!
Over a period of a few weeks, he improved. His diction became clearer, more distinct and he found his singing voice. Rod Stewart was gone and Basil set his sights more keenly at Freddie Mercury or Robert Plant. And finally, he could crow with the best of them! A proper, belting cock-a-doodle-dooooooo! We were proud, I admit it. No embarrassment there. Anxieties over listening to a third-rate crower were gone.
Over Winter, with our double-glazed bedroom window firmly closed against the sub-zero temperatures, we heard nothing of Basil until one or other of us ventured out to open up the chicken house in the morning. Although Spring may not officially be here, in recent weeks we have taken to leaving the window open 'on the latch' - still closed with the handle, but open enough to allow some ventilation. I am a heavy sleeper but, alas, my wife Karon is not and in the last couple of weeks Karon has been awakened by Basil's superb crowing at increasingly early hours. This became irritating - and worrying. For, next door, we run a holiday cottage. How many of our guests would return after a very rude awakening? Come the Summer, possibly as early as 4:00 in the morning!
A solution was desperately required! And, I've cracked it! How have you done that, then? you are no doubt wondering, a note of intrigue to your tone. A laryngectomy? A rubber band wrapped several times around Basil's neck? Threatening Basil with the cooking pot? Well, no. None of the above. In fact, the solution is far simpler and certainly less uncomfortable for Bas...
You see, as I'm sure many of you will know, in order to crow, Basil needs to stretch himself to his full height. It just doesn't work otherwise. He needs to elongate his neck as far as possible, lift his beak in the air, take a deep breath and off he goes. So, the solution? A false ceiling in the chicken house! Ta daah! Yesterday, I installed said false ceiling, still allowing plenty of room for Bas and the girls to roost. And this morning? Nothing! Nada. Zilch. Not a peep. Marvellous!
So now, Karon gets to sleep for as long as she wants (I did, anyway!) and our future guests will recommend our wonderful holiday cottage and return safe in the knowledge that their beauty sleep will not be broken by Basil's operatic crowing.
