Rooster Tale

Photos: The young juvenile delinquent.

Last night Wilder and I did some illegal stealth maneuvering. Not entirely responsible behavior, but we were torn. Half our family will not let us eat the chickens we raise, and half does not like to be attacked by a big fluffy ball of rooster feathers.
This year we accidentally got a rooster. I actually considered getting a rooster -- one of the docile friendly breeds. Did that happen? No, we ended up with the neurotic, paranoid breed of chicks. (Don't trust your feedstore young men to know one chick from another) When you get the wee chicks at the store, they are usually in a straight run, which means "who the heck knows if these are wee hens or wee roosters take your chance." One of our new pullets turned out to be a rooster. Not bad in itself, I was not worried about it, but this one turned out to be the stupidest, crowingest, attackingest, glowing red eyes terrorizing the barnyard bird. He is lovely. Actually, he is lovely, reddish luminescent feathers, and long green black tail feathers. He has had a variety of names.... but as of last night he shall be known as "the wild rooster of North Kitsap."
I will say no more.