Robert J Samples Loc: Round Rock, Texas

I do not remember just when we moved into a Kewanee Oil Company house on the lease that my father pumped. It was sometime between 1941 to 1944.

There was no indoor plumbing other than running water in the kitchen. The house did have gas outlets for space heaters in every room. Electricity wasn’t available until around 1945. The toilet was outside the fenced in yard, about 20 yards or so away. Since we were country folks this wasn’t anything we worried or complained about because this what we were accustomed to using or having.

The problem arose because my mother always had chickens and this time, the rooster was a dictator and believed he controlled not only his hens, but everybody and everything. He would attack anyone, or attempt to, who would be going to the outdoor toilet. Now for the adults, they would just kick him out of the way, and he learned to stand clear.
However, my little sister, who was exactly four years younger than me, had a real problem because this rooster would attack her, knowing he could bluff her into running back to the house when she needed to use the toilet. Someone else would have to accompany her to provide protection.

I was old enough then to have the use of Dad’s 12-gauge shotgun. I asked more than once for permission to ‘settle this guy’s hash’ with a dose of number 8 shot. Finally, my sister came back to the house crying and saying the rooster would not allow her to get to the toilet. I asked again to fix this problem and this time Dad said, “go ahead”! We had a lot of experience in watching out for bird shots because we ate a lot of quail during quail season.

I load the shotgun with one round and walk out the back door and head to the outdoor toilet. The chickens and the rooster were close by and began running away, seeing that I was carrying a gun. As I walked toward them, the rooster takes to flight, and I let him get far enough away so the shot will not blow him apart. At the right range, I shot him down. He became Sunday dinner! Just Sayin…RJS

dbed Loc: POMME DE TERRE LAKE MISSOURI

We had a rooster that got away from mom and he would attack everyone dad told my brother and I to shoot it he meant with the 22 but it was more fun to use the bb gun this went on for a while until dad threatened us with bodily harm so out came the 22 chicken for dinner

Papa Jack Loc: Indianapolis

We moved to the city when I was three. That spring we also had a rooster that would attack you. He attacked me once and my older brother pulled him off of me and was beating him with a stick until mother intervened and saved the old rooster One of my few memories of living on the farm

hhager23 Loc: Hatteras NC

Growing up one of my brothers had a guinea hen that would sit on the roof and jump on anyone that came out the door. I hated that bird.

Passingbye Loc: Reidsville NC

My mother has a rooster she raised from a chick, he got mean towards her and he attacked her flogging her head, drawing blood. She named the bird, Henry. They lived on an oil lease near Black Flat Tx. One day while mom went to school, her mother shot it and cooked it for supper. After they blessed the food, momma asked, where's Henry? Grandpa said, eat your food! It wasn't until she was grown her mother finally told her what happened to Henry 🤣

TooMuch Loc: NE Alabama

I have 2 funny rooster tales...
The first involves my sons pet Rocky the rooster of which we had for 2 yrs. He owned the yard chasing everybody but him. One day after work I told my son to get the eggs for morning chow. He came back in with a little blood dripping from his arm and said the rooster attacked him. Looking at the wound it was just a scratch. I took him outside and showed him how to never be attacked again and proceed to chase that bugger around the yard for a whole 2 hrs! It took that long for the bird to stop crowing and start clucking. From then on, every time that bird saw me it would cluck. It was worth it. We finally ate it after the next time it drew blood.

TooMuch Loc: NE Alabama

The second tale happened at work. I had a job of siding a house in the country. My adult daughter worked with. The client had several hens, some ducks, and one rooster to service them all. It also was their 8 yo sons pet. This bird stalked mearound the house every day and attacked me twice.
One day while working the back of the house it attacked as soon as I passed it. I recognized the sound of the wings. Without thinking I pulled my hammer out as I turned around and as luck would have it, popped it right in the head! Oh no! Down it went, dead.
Well shucks. I wasn't trying for that it was just a lucky unlucky hit. I called the client and explained what happened. She laughed and said she's glad it's gone! She said she ll tell her son a coyote musta snatched it and told me to make sure it's gone before school bus shows up. Again, not expected but I liked it.
I called my girl to grab the bird, put it in a bag, and put it in the bed of the truck.. I now in the front of the house and hear her scream and cussing like a pirate! I go around back to see the rooster running into the hen house! She's still yelling and laughing when I asked what happened. Apparently I knocked it cause when she reached down to pick up a dead bird, it woke up as soon as she touched it. Scared the crap outta her! We still laugh at that !
The rooster never attacked me again would run outta the yard every time it saw me! That's just funny right thar!