Wednesday, February 16, 2005
Don't screw with screwing chickens
I was reminded of this story by MrBob over at "Just a Middle-Aged Guy." He wrote a story about his youngest son when he was a kid and an enraged gaggle of geese. (Check it out! It's a cute story!)
When I was 9 or 10, my Dad got me about 10 of those dyed Easter chicks for me for Easter. My Mom was livid! "Damn it, Jim! Don't you know chicks grow up to be full grown chickens that require food and water?"
Lo and behold, almost all of the chicks made it to maturity. It was by the luck of the draw that I had a pair of about 3 different breeds of chickens. We used an old dog pen to make a coop for them and we had 3 different colored eggs to choose from for breakfast: Brown, Green and Blue.
Every once in a while, I would let the chickens into the yard to peck around. I went out to get the Sunday paper that was dropped on the curb in a clear plastic bag. When I came back in the fence, I noticed that one of the roosters had one of the hens in the dog house and he appeared to be hurting her because she was squawking up a storm! I had not yet learned that chickens can be quite vocal when they are mating.
I took the Sunday paper in the clear plastic bag and started beating on the roof of the dog house to get the rooster to quit hurting the hen. After about 3 whacks, the rooster charged out of the dog house and started running after me. He would run a few yards, and then leap up with his talons aimed right at the backs of my legs. I was running around the house and screaming, "MAMA!"
Mom came to the back screen door to see what I was carrying on about just about the time that I ran by screaming with the rooster right on my heels. "Mama! Open the door!"
The next time I had made it around to the back door, my Mom was doubled over laughing her head off. I started crying. "MAMA!!! OPEN THE DOOR! HE'S GONNA GET ME!"
Finally, after about the fourth or fifth time I passed the back door, she finally regained her composure enough to open the screen door for me and slam it back shut before the rooster got in the house.
I did not like my Mom very much that day.
:-)
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When I was 9 or 10, my Dad got me about 10 of those dyed Easter chicks for me for Easter. My Mom was livid! "Damn it, Jim! Don't you know chicks grow up to be full grown chickens that require food and water?"
Lo and behold, almost all of the chicks made it to maturity. It was by the luck of the draw that I had a pair of about 3 different breeds of chickens. We used an old dog pen to make a coop for them and we had 3 different colored eggs to choose from for breakfast: Brown, Green and Blue.
Every once in a while, I would let the chickens into the yard to peck around. I went out to get the Sunday paper that was dropped on the curb in a clear plastic bag. When I came back in the fence, I noticed that one of the roosters had one of the hens in the dog house and he appeared to be hurting her because she was squawking up a storm! I had not yet learned that chickens can be quite vocal when they are mating.
I took the Sunday paper in the clear plastic bag and started beating on the roof of the dog house to get the rooster to quit hurting the hen. After about 3 whacks, the rooster charged out of the dog house and started running after me. He would run a few yards, and then leap up with his talons aimed right at the backs of my legs. I was running around the house and screaming, "MAMA!"
Mom came to the back screen door to see what I was carrying on about just about the time that I ran by screaming with the rooster right on my heels. "Mama! Open the door!"
The next time I had made it around to the back door, my Mom was doubled over laughing her head off. I started crying. "MAMA!!! OPEN THE DOOR! HE'S GONNA GET ME!"
Finally, after about the fourth or fifth time I passed the back door, she finally regained her composure enough to open the screen door for me and slam it back shut before the rooster got in the house.
I did not like my Mom very much that day.
:-)
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