Against my better judgement, we named our chickens. It was hard to not give them names when we got to know their personalities. And all the drama of them trying to establish a pecking order was better than watching a made-for-tv-mini-series.
Since we are huge Harry Potter fans, the rooster was dubbed Ronald (Harry was too obvious). Ron the Rooster, the smallest of our flock, was, unfortunately, at the very bottom of the pecking order when we brought them home. He didn’t know it. Often we would hear from the coop, “CACKLE,CACKLE,CACKLE!” Out would shoot Ron at top speed with some girl close on this tail! It happened all the time. Going in to roost, Ron wanted to roost on the highest rung. So, he would climb on top of the hens already up there, then down he would come in a flurry of feathers. I have to say he is persistent though. By morning he would be on the top roost. After all these months, he has worked his way up to number two. He’s still working on being the top boss.