Tiger the Rooster

I may be a city girl stuck in the country, but I'm a big girl and I can handle the rooster. 

Tiger. 

He struts his stuff and coddles his hens. I've observed the king of the pen for quite some time and have never had a fleeting thought that he would disrupt my world. 

Now lets rewind a couple of days. I was feeling friendly and saved all our food scraps for the chickens. Needing to stretch our legs and use up little boy energy we set out for an afternoon stroll. The chickens were out of the pen and roaming freely enjoying the fresh cut grass and bugs, but as soon as they saw me head for their coop with a scrap bag in hand, I was suddenly quite popular. Now keep in mind I have David strapped to me in a sling and Samuel tagging along. 

It was an easy mission. Step in the coop. Drop the scraps. Exit and walk home. 

But as I was backing out of the pen I was suddenly on the rooster's hit list. All I saw was feathers. The crazy rooster was nipping at my bare legs and moving at lightening speed. I can image an onlooker watching me streak through the yard holding David (although he was strapped securely) and grabbing for Samuel. Then it occurred to me that I was actually bigger and supposedly smarter.  I halted and turned to face my adversary. Swinging my legs out in a marching band style and waving my arms I gave that rooster a good show.

It must have stuck because today when I went to check on the egg layers, Tiger gave me another good show and I (having learned nothing from the other day) gave a compelling scream and run for the broom.

DISCLAIMER:  My loving husband only request was to locate a video camera...for next time.  Funniest home videos still exists apparently.