Since I don’t have children, it follows that I don’t have grandchildren so I won’t sit around when I’m old telling my war stories to anyone who will listen. That’s what blogs are for. No one has to listen, and…

War stories

Since I don’t have children, it follows that I don’t have grandchildren so I won’t sit around when I’m old telling my war stories to anyone who will listen. That’s what blogs are for. No one has to listen, and in fact no one is really reading this continuing saga but if I continue to journalize the war between the rooster and I.

Last week I decided it would be smart to create a second blog that doesn’t have all the private and personal life struggles content and then I could share it with a wider audience and perhaps get some feedback from chicken lovers or fellow rooster haters. I doubt very much there are any rooster lovers.

It has been reasonably peaceful the last week. The chickens have not been in front of the door, but even if they are, I learned the secret is to leave the house with the dogs. They are dispersed units and quite handy.

It’s 12:15, which is their second feeding of the day. I come out and they’re not usually walking around at this point so I get to deposit food in at least two locations before they come running.

The running of the hens is quite humorous and I’d like to film it except that I have to be very cautious about where the rooster is and whether it’s okay with him that I’m videotaping his harem of hens.

Not that that would really make any difference but it does change the way I move outside. I’m always cautious, and aware and really part of summer should be enjoying the weather and just sitting and watching the animals and the dogs but all enjoyment of outside has been ruined by the rooster.

Even now as I sit outside next to the porch he’s come to investigate and he does that fake pecking and I don’t have a defense so I have to leave and go running. It’s sad to be do stressed by a stupid farm animal bit it’s better than being eaten I suspect.

It was crowing like crazy until I turned on the camera. Now it’s silent and eating. I’d love to give it credit for being this annoying on purpose but I suspect it’s just its nature. In some ways, the rooster is limited to one type of speech or whatever birds call speech. The heads gather and chat like crazy and all the rooster can do is cock-a-doodle-doo loudly and often and generally not directed at anyone or for any reason except to say hey women I brought you food. I doubt he’d ever give me credit.

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