Last year I met some neighbors about a mile away who keep chickens. "Check back in the spring; we're getting some more and we'll have lots of eggs."
Spring has come. Neighbor said, "One chicken we lost to a raccoon, another to old age, and the third has stopped laying. We got another hen who turned out to be a rooster, and we haven't gotten around to adding any more. So no eggs, sorry."
Elvis the rooster (that's Squeaky the non-laying hen behind him) may be sent to a farm, as he cockle-doodle-doos all day long. The neighbors all like him, his guardian says, and she's grown fond of his clownish ways (which include standing atop that ball and rolling it). But I'll bet there are a few neighbors who don't.
Oh, I forgot to add a picture of Welly the Corgi, who is Elvis' friend. They like to chase each other around the yard.