When I was growing up, our family lived in the country for a little while and we had a big yard. One time my dad decided to go out and buy a rooster and a hen so he could see if the hen would start producing some eggs.
I hated that he brought those birds home because I was kind of afraid of chickens when I was a kid. And one day when that rooster started chasing me and my siblings around the house, trying to attack us, this made me feel justified in being afraid of these animals.
That rooster seemed to hate me the most, because he would chase me every time I walked out of the house, and one day he even chased me when I was on my bike, making me fall off. And when I fell off, he quickly ran up to me while I was on the ground and pecked me hard on my right knee with his beak, leaving behind a little scar.
I know that chickens are supposed to be more afraid of humans than we are of them, but I had never encountered such a hostile acting chicken like that before. That rooster always seemed to be angry about something. No wonder the hen never let him impregnate her.
