After entering the dubious search words, "sexing chicks" (and dreading the possible obscene porn sites that might pop up) we found a helpful YouTube video.
After watching it, we took a close look at our chicks and discovered we have four girls and one boy.
John Proctor is indeed a John Proctor. These days he spends less time chewing on his sisters and more time protecting them.
He has spurs on his feet and an enormous head. He's fearless and stares at us intently when we hold him.
Our girls shake nervously when held and try to flap away. But John Proctor has a great deal of presence and a decidedly brash nature.
Ian and I have already become attached to him, and we're hoping he keeps the crowing to a minimum since neither of us wants to toss him in the stew pot.
In our neighborhood, the rules about owning a rooster are a bit grey. If he's too noisy, we know we'll have to get rid of him. Ian's trying to remain optimistic.
Ian: "I don't think we'll have have a problem keeping John. Those horrible yippy dogs that live behind us are way more annoying than a rooster."
I nod and put on a brave face, but privately I think, "Every dog is more annoying than a rooster to Ian."
I have to say, I've never heard the horrible yippy dogs crowing at 4:00am. John has remained silent on the matter, which I'm taking as a good sign.
The internet tells me that roosters crow before the age of four months, so we'll soon learn how vocal our son is. We're hoping our boy has inherited our shy and quiet nature.
But then, he's John Proctor. Every day he looks more like a dinosaur. A bold, brazen dinosaur.
Stay tuned to see whether we eat John Proctor casserole or lavish love (and mercy) on our darling pet.
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