When your mom and I where kids we had chickens and we had a rooster who's name was Bob. Now originally we thought Bob was a girl. Our mom didn't want a rooster because roosters are mean and they're known for attacking people. So we thought hey no roosters.
Well we bought three baby chicks and at first they seemed normal. We called them Ethel, Vivian and Bernice. They where cute and fun. Of course they pooped a lot which was fine. Our mom thought great fertilizer for the garden. Well as the three chicks grew up we noticed that Bernice started looking different. Like she was bigger and scarier. Our moms mom, our grandma thought it was just a big hen. But when our Italian Grandpa Tony saw Bernice, he was like " That's a big Rooster".
Well at first Bob as we called him was fine. But he started getting mean but not too bad.
Finally summer came and our parents decided to enter Bob in the county Fair. Bob who had been "the man" at home was now low on the totem pole. The other roosters would tell at Bob and probably scared the living daylights out of him. So by the time Bob came back from the County Fair he had changed.
Bob came back and was mean and angry.
Bob the rooster Part 2
So at first we didn't notice anything. Bob though walked different. He strutted around the yard like he was the cock of the walk. He acted like he owned the yard. But he was very different.
Bob the rooster had changed into a full scale jerk. He started attacking the hens Ethel and Vivian. He would crow at all hours. Then he started attacking us. He'd chase our little brother and sister out of the yard. He would flap his wings, crow and charge at us. The only person he didn't attack was our mom.
But him and I had our own issues. Yes he was the rooster of the yard. But that yard was mine. It's where I would spend most of my days. Our yard was rather large and for me during the summer I would spend so much time out there. No rooster was going to act like a butt head in my yard.
Bob and I found ourselves in small skirmishes. Usually he would attack a hen and I would stop him and he would try to attack me. I had a bamboo rod which was my trusted weapon and I would swat him away. He would crow and I'd tell him to shut up and he would come charging. We eye'd each other. We knew an epic battle was coming. Only one could be king of the yard.
For weeks this battle went on. It's as if fate was waiting for the right moment. It would come on a sunny afternoon in mid summer.
I was out in the yard playing. Bob was being a jerk. Him and I looked at each other. Was today the day. Suddenly Bob came charging at me. I grabbed my trusted bamboo rod and swung it at Bob before he could attack. I hit Bob across the neck with a violent swap. It stunned him but he kept on coming. I hit him a dozen times in 30 seconds. These swats would of hurt a human being. I hit him over and over again until I was so tired I couldn't hit anymore. Finally out of exhaustion I stopped.
Bob, relaxed as if noting had happened looked over at me and attacked. I ran with all of my might. I dropped my bamboo rod and ran towards the woods behind our house. Bob kept on coming. I ran down a trail that I knew would lead to an open field. I was fast but Bob was faster. He flew up in the air and went for my head. He pecked and scratched at my head. I fell to the ground. I was in a life or death struggle. He had me on the ground and was going to destroy me right then and there. I was dead. I finally pushed Bob off and got up and ran with my last ounce of breath towards the open field.
I ran out into the field and finally stopped in the middle if the field and collapsed. I turned back. Bob was standing there to the enterance of the field. We looked at each other. Bob crowed the loudest he had ever crowed in his life. I yelled back at Bob , " I hate you Bob! I hate you!"
