Remember when I introduced you to our rooster, Justice?
Well, he is a lot bigger and fiercer looking than this now.
Much like this. Only more aggressive.
So, yesterday I was minding my own business, gathering eggs from the hen house and checking to see if we have any baby goats yet, (it should be any day now) when I was suddenly and violently attacked by Justice!
It was exactly like a scene from Jurassic Park. But with more feathers. And high pitched screaming.
Fortunately, my 15 year old son, our "good hero", saw the attack and came to my rescue with a long stick. For the sake of my more sensitive readers, I won't give the details of what happened here, but don't worry. Justice is still alive and kicking. For now.
In case of future attacks, I'll be employing the tips some of you that are Facebook fans gave me on what to do with aggressive roosters. (Again, sensitive readers will want to shield your eyes.)
I will say, though that the Son vs. Justice throw down reminded me of a phrase my mother used to use. Something about beating the tar out of me. Thankfully, I never pressed her to find out if she would.
Too bad Justice didn't follow my example.