On the chicken front

First we thought there were many roosters among the chickens (Annie F perceived several masculine features in the photos we sent her) but only Alonso crowed and so we thought he was the only one. Until a week ago when Alonso got competition. Attila (an opera by Verdi) started challenging Alonso's coop supremacy with a lovely baritone crow. And neither of them kept to any discernible schedule, so we were serenaded with cock-a-doodling on a regular basis, too regular for the neighbors.
Yesterday, Alonso and Attila went to meet their maker, in Yonkers.
Silence and feminine clucking prevailed in the coop. Until this morning when Tuxedo crowed. And crowed and crowed. And crowed some more. He is indeed now the rooster in the henhouse and wants us all to know it. Poor Tuxedo will be heading soon to Yonkers.

And yes, I know it is considered terrible poultry faux pas to name one's chickens, especially ones that will soon be known as Guisado de pollo.