Last week, we added four new roosters to our flock. As I stood there watching them sort things out with the established boys, I couldn’t help but feel a little queasy, like I was some kind of outlaw spectating a backyard cockfight. Sure, cockfighting is illegal, inhumane, and utterly unethical—there’s no defending that. But here’s the thing: when roosters are left to figure out the pecking order on their own, they fight. Sometimes it gets bloody. Sometimes you cringe at the sight of feathers flying. And sometimes you find yourself questioning every life choice that’s led you to this moment.
But the truth is, this isn’t some twisted spectacle for entertainment—it’s nature. Establishing a pecking order is part of how chickens, especially roosters, maintain balance in a mixed flock. It’s a system designed to create structure and hierarchy, and while it’s not always pretty, it’s how they figure out who’s in charge and who gets to crow second.
Why Pecking Orders Matter
Chickens are social creatures, and in any group, there has to be a leader—or, in the case of roosters, multiple leaders negotiating an uneasy truce. The pecking order is their way of establishing boundaries and creating a sense of order. Who eats first? Who gets the prime roosting spot? Who’s the rooster-in-chief? These aren’t trivial questions in chicken society. Without a clear hierarchy, chaos reigns.
And while it might look brutal to us, this process serves a purpose. Once the pecking order is established, the fighting usually dies down. Sure, there might still be the occasional squabble (because let’s be real, some roosters never give up on their ambition), but for the most part, peace prevails. Everyone knows their place, and the flock runs more smoothly because of it.
When It Gets Messy
Watching roosters duke it out is no picnic. As much as I know this is part of their natural behavior, there’s still that pit in my stomach when things turn bloody. It happened this week—or, by the time you’re reading this, last week. New feathers flew. Heads got pecked. Tempers flared. And I stood there, arms crossed, trying not to intervene.
Because here’s the thing: as much as we want to step in and “help,” doing so usually just prolongs the process. Roosters need to hash it out amongst themselves, even if it’s uncomfortable to watch. That said, there are limits. If the fighting goes on too long or turns truly vicious, sometimes it’s necessary to separate the aggressors for the sake of the flock.
But for the most part, I trust the process. I know that by spring, when we separate off some of the roosters into specific breeding pens, they’ll have settled into a more harmonious rhythm. For now, though, they need to learn to get along—and apparently, that means acting like feathered boxers until they figure it out.
Is There a Lesson in All This?
Watching chickens establish a pecking order is like witnessing a microcosm of life itself. It’s messy, it’s sometimes painful, but in the end, it’s about finding balance. And while we humans might not settle disputes with beaks and spurs (thank goodness), there’s something to be said for letting things run their natural course.
So as much as I dislike seeing roosters squabble, I remind myself that this is how they sort things out. It’s not about cruelty; it’s about structure. And once the dust settles, the flock will be stronger for it—at least until the next big change comes along, because, well, that’s life.
Ever had a moment on the farm that made you question everything, only to realize it all had a purpose? Pull up a chair and let’s talk about it. Maybe the chickens aren’t the only ones figuring out their pecking order.
