Little Fuzzy
Songster
- Jan 16, 2016
- 623
- 83
- 116
That was a very interesting story, thank you.
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omg im rolling hard laughing so bad.... Tears and allOh my goodness -- thank you everyone for all the ovations. I guess I should finish the story with the funniest part.
Emerald came home the next day with a two inch incision held together with lots of stitches. He was SOOOO happy to be home, and was feeling his hormones in a big way. The backyard had been bisected down the middle, and I was working to enrich his side of the yard by putting in new shrubs around some of the trees near the house. The yard had a slope to it, downhill from the house to a 20 acre community pond below. All the houses in the neighborhood had a similar design, two stories, with an outdoor balcony or deck coming off the second story looking out over the backyards and the pond.
A few days after him coming home, I was outside working in the yard, and had a few of those white 5-gallon buckets outside with me containing various supplies. Emerald was strutting around, acting studly, an awkward 4 month old trying to court the mature hens on the other side of the yard, coming back to mom for sympathy when they didn't take him seriously. At one point I had laid a white 5 gallon bucket on its side for some reason. It was white like Sydney, it was big and round like Sydney, he was on hormonal overload, and it started looking distinctly feminine to a frantically horny young cockerel. All of a sudden he jumped on top of the bucket, and it started rolling downhill. I jumped up as quickly as I could, but not in time to stop the whole event. I can still picture it in my mind: the bucket rolling downhill towards the pond, Emerald riding it with feet running backwards -- like a lumberjack in a logrolling contest, awkwardly pelvic thrusting as much as possible while still running backwards as the bucket rolled all the way down to the fence at the shoreline, me running after him loudly screaming, "Emerald, stop trying to breed with the bucket. You'll break open your stitches!!"
Now that's a scene that brings neighbors out onto their balconies! Yeah, all of them, laughing hysterically. With entertainment like that, no one ever complained about Emereld's crowing.