This morning Jean-Bob completed his ascent into roosterhood. While I was in the coop looking for eggs, he took the opportunity to do what comes naturally, upsetting one of the Reds that he chose as his victim. He didn't seem too upset about it, though.

So Jean-Bob has completed the Triple Crown; the physical characteristics, the crowing (or attempts to), and now that whole passing-on-of-genes thing.

Nothing yet from Rocky, who is 1 for 3.

When my daughter gathered the eggs yesterday, there were four and one of them was white (well, more off-white) with a rough feeling shell. The immediate thought is that somebody new is laying now (with one of the Reds suspected of laying eggs in an unauthorized area).

I don't have any white egg layers, but the egg definitely has an amateur look to it. Plus, I mentioned that someone had laid a soft shell egg a couple of weeks ago. So this could be a pullet egg from a 16 week old, and the main suspect is one of the White Rocks.

I was looking over the pullets this morning, and a side-by-side comparison of the two Rocks (they were conveniently next to each other) convinced me. One still had that skinny young-pullet look, but the other had the wide and puffed-out look to the bottom that the Reds all developed when they started to lay.

If that's the case, then more eggs for everyone.

This morning when I was out on my rounds, just before I opened the coop I heard what sounded like someone bleating on a party horn.

And I realized, somebody in there is trying to crow.

While doing my chores I kept my eyes and ears open, and the culprit turned out to be... Jean-Bob. He'd do the rooster stretch, flap his wings, and come forth with a two-note honk.

Still, I thought this was odd since the crow I heard earlier sounded more traditional - albeit one done by an amateur, one intent on imitating Scooby Doo.

I had the answer soon enough. Jean-Bob stood around practicing his two-note honk, and after a while Roger showed up. He stood next to Jean-Bob, did the stretch, and issued the full crow in a Scooby Doo voice.

And Jean-Bob turned tail and ran off.

Not a peep from Rocky.

Okay. Roger is dominant. Jean-Bob just needs a some more practice. And the hens should probably start watching their backs.

And of course, I forgot to mention the big news from Saturday.

While I was busy installing the floor and the chickens were all out wandering...

Somebody crowed.

Quite possibly the worst crow I had ever heard, but very clearly a freshman effort.

Which roo was it?

I don't know. I started to go out to see who was in the area and the goats got spooked and stampeded, scattering the flock.

Well, it's just a matter of time before I catch up with the culprit. Or vice versa.

Eggs last week (through Saturday): 20

The comic highlight of the week was going to let the chickens out on Thursday morning and being followed by the barn cat. Cleo is half the size of the chickens, and she learned long ago that you don't mess with them. And the chickens let Cleo know she's not welcome, bending over and putting their wings out like an F-16, then charging her at full speed.

So on Thursday, she followed me into the barnyard and I let all the chickens out, then turned around in time to see one very nervous, freaked out cat... suddenly surrounded by chickens. She did that twitchy "what do I do now?" thing that cats do, and then took the path of least resistance and got out of there, pursued by a Red Sex Link.

Saturday between early Father's Day celebrations I finally got the floor put into the chicken coop. there was a floor in the first quarter and back quarter, but there was no floor in the middle half, save for a couple of old boards that had collapsed. It made for a large gap that was a magnet for straw. Over the last couple of weeks, I worked on cutting three cross-pieces that would support the floor planks from beneath, and then the planks themselves. Started in only to find that the deck screws I bought months ago for this effort were too short - emergency trip to Lowe's for some longer ones. It gave me a real feeling of accomplishment putting that in, especially since I don't consider myself mechanically adept at all.

Finished it all off by using leftover bits of chicken wire to make sure the gaps were covered up - come raccoons have been spotted in the vicinity, although I haven't had a problem with them yet. I'm wondering if they're spooked by the looming figures of the goats.

Next week's project: starting a new manure pile from all the straw I shoveled out on Saturday.

Eggs for the week ending last Saturday: 21

Interesting events: I was getting home late in the evening, so my daughter was collecting eggs for me. Thursday she said she had gotten two, but a third might have been on the way as one of the Reds was in the nest box. It was late when I got home to close up the coop, the lights had shut off and the birds were all asleep, so I decided to wait until morning.

Friday there were four eggs in the next box. This meant that either the Red had laid late in the day or my daughter was right. It was the latter, I suspect.

But then while refilling the dish that holds the oyster shell, something cracked under my foot. I looked down and dug through the straw to find another egg. I don't think it was a fifth egg from the day before. I suspect it was the third egg from one of the days that only two were collected, one that had fallen under the nest and somehow been buried by chicken activity in the coop.

Sunday morning I found the remains of a thin shelled egg in the coop. There was either a malfunction in one of the Reds, or at almost four months, one of the other pullets is coming on line. I suspect the former. The chickens seem to know when the egg they're laying has something wrong, and it gets sent out of the nest. This was found in the space between the door and the goat gate.

On the other hand, this is a popular place for new layers to deposit their early efforts.

On the other other hand, Mildred the Ross hen started laying at four months. But on the other other other hand, Rosses are bred for accelerated development.

One swipe with Occam's Razor says: the culprit was one of the Reds. That's where I'm leaving it for now.

I just came in from shutting the chooks up for the night and saw something that was significant... in the world of our barnyard, that is.

I've mentioned before how the Reds like to perch on the goat gate at night. They're the four bosses, and it could be considered the highest perch in the place (especially since I built a slippery slope on top of the next box).

Tonight when I went out to close the doors, the top of the gate was occupied by the four Reds...

...and Roger the roo.

A colleague of mine who works on a local music show knows Larry Thomas, the actor who played the Soup Nazi on the Seinfeld show. David was in the neighborhood over the weekend, and a bunch of the show staff were going up to shoot a segment with him. They invited me to come along and rub elbows, but (having never gotten, let alone watched, Seinfeld) I begged off, insisting I had a full weekend ahead of me.

And I did. Instead of hobnobbing with the Soup Nazi, I toted 8 wheelbarrows full of manure (a tasty mixture of goat and chicken) to my Father-In-Law's garden, dumping it, then spreading it around and raking it. Also did a bunch of the usual weekend chicken errands, such as cleaning out the nest boxes and knocking down barn swallow nests.

Counting from the beginning of the month, we collected 14 eggs this week. Counting from last Sunday, we collected 21.

No word on whether any of the chooks would have wanted to meet Larry Thomas.

Correction: I revised this post because I found out that the Soup Nazi's last name is Thomas, not David as I had originally said. Larry David, I think, was associated with the Seinfeld show in another way (the inspiration for George, I think). That's what I get for not being a Seinfeldophile.

Egg Count for the Month of May: 93

Lessons Learned: Fly paper does not stick to feathers as nastily as it clings to everything else. I went to the coop this morning and discovered that Rocky somehow had gotten the strip of flypaper (which was tacked to the coop ceiling) tangled around him. Judging from the way that it was tucked under one wing, I'm thinking that he must have flown into it.

Anyway, I managed to herd him into the coop and catch him, wondering if I'd have to take the scissors to some of the feathers to get it out. Fortunately, the strip came away with a minimum of gentle pulling, though it was a protracted process since I was trying to keep a junior roo calm in my lap at the same time.

Now to rethink my insect control plan.