A Happy, Friendly Rooster

I was doomed from the moment my room-mate read the ad in the newspaper. He had already brought home two hens. We built them a pen, they seemed content, they gave us fresh eggs. Life was good!

Then he read the ad. Life as I knew it was about to end.

Just in case you were wondering, there is no such thing as a happy, friendly rooster. There is definitely no such thing as a happy rooster who has just been transplanted from the only home he has known.

There was no longer easy eggs to be had. Entering the chicken coop became a dance of self preservation. The rooster (whose name, I admit has now been blocked from my mind), would attack you the moment you entered. I had to bring a shovel, or rake, or any sort of large object to fend him off while I grabbed the eggs, not turning my back to him for even a moment.

I loved having eggs, I even enjoyed the crowing in the morning - it reminded me of my time in the Peace Corps - but I did not enjoy being attacked! If you are ever considering getting a rooster, seriously reconsider. Please - happy, friendly roosters are not real...

This post was inspired by Buddy: How a Rooster Made Me a Man a memoir by Brian McGrogry. When Brian his bachelor life to move to suburbia and join his girlfriend with her two young daughters, he had no idea he needed to win over their rooster too. Join From Left to Write on November 21 as we discuss Buddy: How a Rooster Made Me a Man.  As a member, I received a copy of the book for review purposes.