It occurred to me this morning while my illegal roosters were er-erer-ERRing (shut up shut up SHUT UP) that there appeared to be three distinctly different calls. I peered out the family room window, praying I was wrong, and saw the runt of the litter, Amy, warbling like a champion.
Nooooooo!
I am screwed. There is no possible way I can offload THREE roosters.
Husband has offered – again – to wring their necks. Who have I married? Could he REALLY do that, in cold-blood?
And how would he do it? In front of their mother. Or would he carry them away, one-by-one, to do the deed? What if it didn’t work and he just crippled them and left them in agony?
So he said he’d chop their heads off … and I’m like, with WHAT? Every knife in our house is blunt as buggery.
I suggested we do the Hansel & Gretel thing and abandon them deep in the forest. Husband reckons that would be a cruel and terrifying way to go.
He’s a fine one to talk.
I pondered asking the RSPCA to euthanised them, but apparently there’s a steep charge for that service.
Is there someone out there that would like to eat them, perhaps? Just take them discreetly off my hands and humanely turn them into chicken kiev or something? If I pretend not to realise, I think I could almost live with myself.
Does anyone have a more palatable suggestion?
housegoeshome 
Oohhh they are sooo cute!