Bye-bye rooster! You’re cock-a-doodle-doing our neighbours’ heads in

We live in the greater Zurich area. Out in the sticks, some might say. In any case, it’s all pretty rural around here. Which is one of the reasons why we got chickens a few years ago.

When I wrote this article, Travis was still a part of the family. Soon after, he wasn’t any more. He had repeatedly attacked our daughter, who was three-and-a-half at the time, when he was let out for walks. This is why we took Travis back to Pferdehof OHA in Fällanden, where we had originally got him from. Henry, his successor, also lives there now. There’s no way we would’ve given him away by choice, as he was with us even before he was a chick.

The point of contention

Cock-a-doodle-doo! Everyone knows what the crow of a rooster sounds like. At 130 decibels, it goes right through you. To the human ear, this is roughly as loud as a jet taking off or a jackhammer – all depending on the distance, of course. Science defines 80 decibels and more as noise. The pain threshold is at around 120 decibels. How come the rooster doesn’t make himself go deaf with all that crowing? This is down to his anatomy, a study revealed.

Ruler of the roost

Why do roosters crow anyway? It’s not to replace our alarm clocks, that’s just a side effect. Originally, crowing was a rooster’s mating call. However, this purpose has become obsolete since the domestication of the chicken. These days, the rooster just wants to impress the hens and everyone else. He also wants to show off his strength and be very clear about who he thinks the boss is. That explains why roosters also occasionally crow during the day and not just at dawn, as is often believed.

Incidentally, Japanese scientists disproved the idea that roosters only crow when the sun rises. They showed in a study conducted in 2013 that roosters follow an internal clock with their call and not the light of day. This means you might just hear the first cockcrow when it’s still dark out. And this was our Henry’s downfall.

The complaint

It was a Wednesday afternoon when the doorbell rang. «Must be a parcel for me,» I thought, as I went to open the door with a spring in my step. Instead of a parcel, a man I recognised but had never spoken to was standing there. He asked me if the rooster was ours. The one that crows at six in the morning at times. A violation of noise regulations, he adds. He told me he was here on behalf of four residential parties in a neighbouring apartment building. They were planning to take the matter to the council. I’d like to point out that, although he was very clear about the point he was making, he remained friendly throughout. I promised I’d take care of it as soon as possible.

Six o’clock?! Was that even possible? Neither my wife nor I had ever heard our rooster crow this early. Probably because I’m usually already out or still asleep at that time of day. A few days later, I heard him with my own ears. It was early and I could hear him through the closed stable doors. It was just after six, to be exact.

The consequence

I kept the promise I made to the complainant and peace has returned to the neighbourhood. Quite literally. There was no trip to the council for him or us. Henry the rooster is now back where he came from when he was still an egg. Now, he can crow whenever and as often as he likes.

Saying goodbye wasn’t easy. When we told our five-year-old girl we were giving Henry away, she cried. Both my wife and I had a heavy heart, too. After all, Henry had been part of the family from before day one. We hatched him and raised him by hand. Unfortunately for us and for everyone else, relocating the rooster was the best and quickest solution. We like where we live. It’s peaceful and the neighbourhood is friendly. It’s not something we’d want to jeopardise. Rehoming our rooster was a purely rational decision.

The legal situation

Perhaps we could and should have fought more for Henry. Talking sense into the rooster probably wouldn’t have helped. But we could’ve made the barn soundproof. A possible solution that does raise the question of cost and return.

We could have put up a fight and, at worst, ended up in a legal dispute ... which we might’ve lost. Even the Federal Supreme Court has had to rule on unwelcome cockcrowing. In 1996, it ruled in favour of the neighbours disturbed by the noise in a very similar case (link in German) that took place in Winterthur.

One thing is clear: «Night-time noise restrictions apply from 10 p.m. to 7 a.m.,» state the police regulations of our municipality. And furthermore: «Animals must be kept in such a way that no one is inconvenienced and neither people, animals
nor property is at risk or damaged.» My conclusion after all this? If someone’s sleep is bothered because of our rooster, it’s up to us to act as the owners. And so we did. To keep the peace.