Stunning Cream Legbar/Leghorn cross cockeral raised from an bright blue egg We were going to use him to pass his genes onto legbar and marans to get olive green eggs but unfortunately our neighbours have reported him for his early morning crowing he is quiet during the day and evening, too nice a bird for the pot.
Can deliver if local.

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Make a dark hutch for him so that he crows when you let him out in the morning.

I learned tonight, that farmers would put them in a hutch at head height over night.
This is because they have to stretch there necks to doodle doo.

A Cockeral will doodle doo anytime, but more at sunrise.

I dont mind the doodle doo I have just got one interfering neighbour the other neighbours dont mind either you can get anti doodle doo collers that stop them straightening there neck so they cant doodle doo but i think they are cruel hopefully hes going to a new home on wednesday where he can cock a doodle doo to his hearts content

I had a few cockerels near my last place, didn't bother me one bit, at first it was a novelty which I enjoyed hearing then you got used to it and didn't notice them - the same as ticking or chiming clocks. I noticed it had gone quiet and they had the same situation as you, one awkward bloomin' neighbour.

Its only people that intentionally wind themselves up over these things that stick their awe in, if it wasn't this it would be something else. Angry at their own boredom - get a hobby!

Doodle doo lol

Strange that really. Do your neighbours not get out of bed as it's not light so early at this time of year . Lazy lumps !

Poor old Doodle. I feel sorry for him.

I went camping in rural France once, and for a week in the farm next door , a cockrel doodle doode solid for a good 2 hours every morning, and at regular intervals during the day.Even as a committed non meat eater ----- I was sorely tested !!!!

That happened to me Venice too.. Went on holiday a small secluded hotel up a mountain but what they forgot to mention situated next door to a farm. If it wasn't the goats bleating it was this flipping cockerel crowing it was such a relief to get home, even the local barking dog didn't seem so bad after that..

I think the answer is not to go to the country for your holidays. One must realise that the countryside belongs to the farmers and animals and that you are the guests I personally think it's a wonderful place to be for all the reasons mentioned above. Cows mooing, sheep baaing, cockerels doodling, goats bleating, pigs grunting ...how very wonderful !

Cockerels in suburbia is different, but not unmanageable surely.


Poor old Doodle, poor old Doodle,
He did nothing wrong ,only sang us his song ;
Under his feathers he looks so forlorn;
Poor old doodle must go in the morn

The miserable neighbours didn't like dawn,
He wanted to share his beautiful day.
How can you stop a cock having fun,
How can people be so cruel and glum ?

Poor old Doodle, poor old Doodle,
He did nothing wrong ,only sang us his song
Under his feathers he looks so forlorn
Poor old doodle must be gone in the morn.

Oh now you're making me feel guilty Granny and sorry for Doodle but still wouldn't want him next door to me lol...good poem thank god for trip advisor these days, wouldn't go anywhere without checking that...

Sorely tested granny, but the difference is theres no way I would have complained about him, as I agree you go to the countryside willingly and knowingly with your eyes (and ears ) wide open . Doesnt change the fact that it can be pretty irritating when a cockeral is doing hardcore crowing for its country!! lol.

When using Trip Advisor be sure to ignore the outlandishly complimentary comments as these are invariably written by the owner of the business or his family and friends, instead, it has been my experience, look at the less glowing reports for a more realistic appraisal.

A strutting prideful fellow rules the yard;
His plumage flared with green and red and gold.
He strolls among the stable straw on guard,
His flock of hens protected and controlled.
They crouch submissive as he passes by,
His punk red comb a bobbing on his head.
Down his sharp beak he casts a beady eye,
To check if there are any to be bred.
His manly duties done he then proceeds
To wander over to the feeding trough.
He eats his fill of oats and other seeds,
While others step aside or just fly off.
Full chest thrust out, he rises on tip-toe
To crow his splendour for the world to know.

Roger was a rooster, every day he’d greet the sun,
Morning pastime: choosing chicks with which to have some fun;
Buxom little Bantams, and the Leghorns – Oh, my word!
White and plump with meaty rump to tantalize a bird.

Australorps his favorite, he’d let out a meaty growl,
Picturing these chickens in positions fully fowl;
Frizzles freaked him out, great drumsticks made them good in bed,
New Hampshires were Heaven and he loved Rhode Island Red.

Siren Silkies, skin so soft, he savored them like wine,
Sussexes would bat their eyes, an egg production line!
Red and white Anconas, some old boilers, Plymouth Rock,
All were part of randy Roger’s feathered female flock.

Strutting round the fowl yard, Roger’s life was rich and full,
All around him happy hens, and pullets he could pull!
Every hen his favorite, he was loving, lusty, lewd,
Poultry porn was normal life, and no-one thought it crude.

Every Sunday one would go, a tragic part of life,
All the hens would cower when they saw the farmer’s wife;
Picking out the weekly roast, then to the chopping block,
Capons fear one single sound: a sharp axe going “thwock!”

Roger was a realist though, his tongue stayed in his head,
Never questioned who should go or who should stay instead;
Capon capers, what a life! perpetual bill and coo,
Roger had the magic password: Cock a doodle doo!

Bottom line is.....Hope he finds a forever loving home.
I think i would prefer a Cockeral just,COCKLE DOODLE DOO in the morning,Rather than a dog barking day and night for no reason.

Nice poems sunnyside. I know another about a cock.
The boy stood on the burning deck........

In uganda last year and at 5am every morning it was the ruddy immam yelling allah akhbar for the morning call to prayer.