Phoenix, our 1/2 Barred Rock 1/2 Americaunas rooster, takes after his father, Jack (Barred Rock) in many ways. Sweet temperment, same build, etc.
He also carries Jack's leanings towards being a weaponized
chicken. Here's Jack, with a look at Jack's spurs...those KNIVES he
carried on his legs:
Jack was beyond sweet, a very laid-back roo who would never dream of
attacking a human with beak, wing or claw. Or spur, thank God. We
could just walk up to him and pet him or scoop him up and carry him
around at will. Phoenix is just like him. Which is a damned good
thing, because yesterday Phoenix finally molted the end of one of
his spurs (which I had been grabbing and worrying with my hand every so
often over the last month or so, twisting it a wee bit in an effort to
loosen it). Roosters are supposed to molt their spurs every so
often as needed, and Phoenix had hung on to his WAY too long. I'm sure
the hens, come Springtime and the mating season, will appreciate his
shedding the stupid thing more than anyone--he had molted the other one
back over the summer. So here is Phoenix's latest contribution to my
rooster spur collection:
it was straight it would be 6 1/2 inches long. Truly the definition of
'overkill'. This, by the way, is the cap--Phoenix still has a spur
that is about 2 inches long on the shank of his leg.
Aw, my widdow sweetums Roo-Boy of Death...