Roosters have 2 purposes in life: 1: to make more chickens and 2: to protect their flock. So far our rooster has done both jobs well except yesterday he took the protection part of his contract a little too serious.We usually let the chickens out of their hen yard a few times a day for the free range aspect and because they love to forage the property for bugs and worms and fresh greens (it makes their yolks golden orange). If even one hen has not gone back into the henyard when we herd them in, the rooster will not go in either which is a good thing. What is not a good thing is the fact that he feels threatned by the herder (yesterday it was me) until all the gals are accounted for. So there I am up in the backwoods, trying to get him to come in, since I don't see any other hens around. I am wearing Tom's boots which are 2 sizes too big and I do not have a stick with me, which is usually enough to fend him off should he get nasty. Well when he saw me coming, he went phsyco!! I am talking full on spur combat with the neck feathers all forward and I swear his eyes had little tiny images of Satan himself in them. The more I tried to get away, the more he came after me even when I hid behind a large tree, he came looking for me. I can't imagine what the closest neighbour must have thought hearing me shrieking like a scared schoolgirl and at the same time swearing like an angry sailor on leave. Fortuneatly there is enough bush between us and them so they can't see whats going on.
Giving me the evil eye...
I was finally able to pick up a chunk of a rotten log and threw it at him and he went running towards the hen yard. By this time I thought you F#*#*N so and so, I hope that hawk comes straight down and picks you off so you don't even know what hit you! He wasn't anywhere to be seen so he obviously found a hiding place away from me...I was so shook up and angry and until you've had a rooster come at you with the look of the devil in his eyes, you have no idea how freaky it really is...he must have come at me about 8 or 9 times before I escaped. After Griffin and I got back from our walk, we came up the driveway and look who's way down in the front field but one little hen, non chalantly picking her way through the new garden patch. I don't think she had a clue of the trouble she had caused.
So I got to thinking that I didn't want to get caught off gaurd again, and decided I needed some serious armour.
"hey rooster...look who's the tough one now!"
my new anti-rooster shield.
You better RUN!
By the way...I don't think he knows how ridiculous he looks without tail feathers...we got him as a young guy and he's never had any grow in properly...but we'll keep that our little secret. By the karate like kicks he was sending my way, I think I'll call him Bruce, after Bruce Lee (besides a few other unmentionables!).
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