What Do You Know?

Guys who know bears get eaten by bears. People who know horses get kicked by a horse.  A farmer who knows chickens has been set upon by a rooster. Trial and error, making the mistakes to make gains, making mistakes to set the precedent, falling from virtue and falling to it. That’s what jived this train of thought—my two year old nephew was over for a run amok around the farm and he spied, with glee, the big cuddly rooster sauntering the backyard boulevard with his two hens, Madeline and Bernice.

My nephew immediately made his way for introductions. Bernice and Madeline saw this delightful miniature human bounding their way and scattered. The rooster had no clear idea what to do, so he did what comes natural, reared up gave the child two quick hand slaps on the legs. Yikes. Fortunately, this is a young rooster with little hammers and not spurs. He’s also fairly tame and skiddish, unlike some of the old kings we’ve entertained, but the damage was done and the encounter was made. The child burst into a shriek. The parental unit and the uncle dashed forward, realizing their pleas of “no, stay here” were futile.

The child was promptly whisked away for inspection and the rooster was eaten. No, it wasn’t. It wasn’t the rooster’s fault. He just met with a toddling bulldozer. And the adventuring babe was A-OK, a little startled, but no ripping gash through to his innards. It is a farm so if you get cut, make sure your tetanus shot is valid.

In the blur to attend, the parents anxiety rose to emergency level, demonstrating to the child that panic should always follow such an exchange. Then something natural occurred yet again. The rooster started crowing, and taking a victory lap around the yard. The child stopped in mid bawl and pointed, “roosser”, and my wife did the saintly, she said, “look the rooster is talking at us, can you talk to the rooster?” And the child did, cockadoodling his best. Here was a direct opportunity, between master and student to learn a language and how to get your butt kicked kung fu fast.

So what do ya know? I admit that I made a lot of mistakes.

Yeah, I know it’s been a while. Getting back in the groove. Did you know that the male chickens are affectionately named after kings of England. Neither did I, but my neighbor informed me. I did make a joke though, avert your eyes… What came first, the chicken or the egg? Neither, silly, the rooster always does. Hahaha. Actually, any chicken that sits on a roost at night is a rooster, and among them are hens and cocks. There’s a pun in all this somewhere. your g

 

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