So, little ol’ me goes to feed the chickens in shorts and flip-flops this morning, and the ol’ black attack rooster decided I didn’t look good in shorts (or maybe he realized I was vulnerable). He ran straight at me, so I ran straight at him yelling like a banshee and waving my arms and spilling food. He rethinks his mission and I take the moment to grab a stick and chase him down to beat the snot out of him when I realize that in my haste I had left the gate open and all the frightened hens had made their escape to get eat my young garden plants. I then spent the next 30 minutes rounding up stray hens and escorting them back into the pen. Did I mention this rooster is slated for dinner this week?