The rooster’s name is Maximilian III.

It was a toss-up between Maximus and Maximilian, and the styly Austrian won; he is my third rooster.

The first two were ‘Ooo’ and ‘Son of Ooo’.

When Manchild was a little baby, he learned to crow like the rooster before he could speak. Later, as he began to talk, his word attached itself to the rooster and Ooo was Ooo for the rest of his life.

I think my fluffy not-quite-black rooster will grow into Max. It is a good name.

This entry was published on November 16, 2015 at 6:49 pm. It’s filed under chickens, Farm life, Lifestyle and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.

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