- Mar 25, 2009
- 1,299
- 16
- 171
This would have been considerably funnier had not the boot been on my foot at the time.
I had been up in the woods beating the snot out of some honeysuckle and was wearing my work boots instead of my rain boots, which is what the old idiot is used to. I decided I didn't feel like going in to change before I locked them up for the night, so I just went straight back. Rooster was fluffing a bit at the door and I was ignoring him as usual, but boy did I get a surprise. My run is made so I have to step over a short bit of fence to keep the chickens from running out the door when it's open, and when I lifted my boot in, Rooster flipped his lid!
He hopped at the boot and, reflexively, I kicked him in the head. Oops. He came at it again, and I booted him again. Now, you've got to realize, this idiot's so uncoordinated that he looks more like the Rabbit of Caerbannog than the velociraptor that he's going for -- fluffy, angry, and with obviously visible wires. I mean, any time I knock him down, he literally -- and I do mean literally, not figuratively like some many people use literally to mean these days -- literally falls on his butt and then has to use his wings to pick himself up, like a old man who'd been sitting too long on too low of a chair.
It didn't take me long to tire of this, so I reached for the kitty litter scoop, gave him a quick bop on the head, and he looked up, said "Oh, $#*@" (in chicken, of course) and backed off. I finally go in, steamed and ready to knock his sorry rooster tushe into next week, and suddenly he's behaving as he always does -- running away under the coop, clearing out whenever I come near him. I couldn't catch the bugger to hold him down or pick him up. Everyone goes in the house and Rooster and I start playing peek-a-boo in the doors -- I go to the east door, he runs to the west wall; I go to the west door, he runs to the east wall. Just like normal.
So this was a weird little interlude, and I'm going to be keeping a close eye on him, but I can't help but laugh a little. I'm *sure* he thought that boot was a threat, and I'm sure that he didn't realize it was attached to the mean lady with the litter scoop. Anyway, I'm back in my blue rain boots tomorrow and we'll see what happens. And if he decides to cause problems... well, in about 20 weeks I'll be doing some butchering. He has that long to straighten up his act or to see how he likes spending his time with peas and carrots...
I had been up in the woods beating the snot out of some honeysuckle and was wearing my work boots instead of my rain boots, which is what the old idiot is used to. I decided I didn't feel like going in to change before I locked them up for the night, so I just went straight back. Rooster was fluffing a bit at the door and I was ignoring him as usual, but boy did I get a surprise. My run is made so I have to step over a short bit of fence to keep the chickens from running out the door when it's open, and when I lifted my boot in, Rooster flipped his lid!
He hopped at the boot and, reflexively, I kicked him in the head. Oops. He came at it again, and I booted him again. Now, you've got to realize, this idiot's so uncoordinated that he looks more like the Rabbit of Caerbannog than the velociraptor that he's going for -- fluffy, angry, and with obviously visible wires. I mean, any time I knock him down, he literally -- and I do mean literally, not figuratively like some many people use literally to mean these days -- literally falls on his butt and then has to use his wings to pick himself up, like a old man who'd been sitting too long on too low of a chair.
It didn't take me long to tire of this, so I reached for the kitty litter scoop, gave him a quick bop on the head, and he looked up, said "Oh, $#*@" (in chicken, of course) and backed off. I finally go in, steamed and ready to knock his sorry rooster tushe into next week, and suddenly he's behaving as he always does -- running away under the coop, clearing out whenever I come near him. I couldn't catch the bugger to hold him down or pick him up. Everyone goes in the house and Rooster and I start playing peek-a-boo in the doors -- I go to the east door, he runs to the west wall; I go to the west door, he runs to the east wall. Just like normal.
So this was a weird little interlude, and I'm going to be keeping a close eye on him, but I can't help but laugh a little. I'm *sure* he thought that boot was a threat, and I'm sure that he didn't realize it was attached to the mean lady with the litter scoop. Anyway, I'm back in my blue rain boots tomorrow and we'll see what happens. And if he decides to cause problems... well, in about 20 weeks I'll be doing some butchering. He has that long to straighten up his act or to see how he likes spending his time with peas and carrots...
