When I was a kid my grandpa always had chicken. Mostly layers all the time and broilers sometimes. When I was with him I had to help with chores ( I could write volumes) who h included caring for the chickens. I remember gathering eggs was always worrisome for as I opened the coop door the rooster automatically started raising hell. Got spurred a few times. The hens were always fussy and pecked and I was always in a hurry to get out. Sometimes a broken egg was the result, which meant someone didn't get an egg that day along with some scorn if not a whipping. One day I was playing too close to the hens, the rooster got after me and I threw a rock at after getting spurred again. I killed the rooster. I was MORTIFIED. I didn't know how to tell him. I knew how mad he would get when I broke an egg, I couldn't imagine what he would do now. I told my grandma and she went with me to tell him. I remember him laughing,he put his arm around me and said something like "I wondered when you were gonna stand up to that mean 'ol rooster!" "I I 'spose I've got a nuthern somewhere around here."
One of my fondest memories about taking care of chickens and of my grandpa. He taught me a lot about what it takes to be a man.
I love stories like that. Anyone else got any?
One of my fondest memories about taking care of chickens and of my grandpa. He taught me a lot about what it takes to be a man.
I love stories like that. Anyone else got any?
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