To The Emergency Room We Go…


Surprises always seem to come when we least expect them. Ok, I suppose if they didn’t come when we least expected them wouldn’t be surprises would they?
A little background to my story:
We had a rooster we had raised from a chick with my hen chicks. He was supposed to be a hen, but, well, he wasn’t. As he grew older and started to crow he also started becoming owly. If you turned your back on him he had a tendency to attack the backs of your legs. Not good. My Mom told me she wanted him to keep the dogs away from her chickens and she would trade me a nice rooster for him. The gentle rooster came home with us…or so I thought. A week had gone by with much observation of the new rooster. He hardly acknowledged our existence and then…
I was running a little late with my critter chores that day. I left Richie busy in the house and took my girls out with me since they love to help. I stepped into the shed and saw the chickens and rooster in there looking for something to eat and decided I better feed them first or they might become a nuisance while I grained and milked my goats. I told Lillon and Eden we were going to feed the chickens and stepped out the door. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Lillon following and assumed Eden was tagging close behind. I got a few steps farther and thought I heard crying. I paused for a moment. A whimper. I dashed back in to see the rooster back up a little as he saw me rush in. Eden was on the ground with blood dripping from her head. In a rage I grabbed something to club him and sent him flying. I then scooped up Eden in my arms and made a run for the house Lillon close on my heels. We burst into the house with Lillon shouting that Eden had been attacked by the rooster. Richie starts going, “Oh, no! Oh, no!”. I grabbed a wash cloth and the peroxide and shut Eden and I in the bathroom, so I didn’t have to hear the commotion and could think. I cleaned off some of the blood so I could see the damage- a v-shaped cut in her hairline. Richard peered in and we decided she needed stitches. I took her in to the emergency room. I was happy to see we were the only ones there and so got in quickly. Of course, the Dr. comes in and wants to hear how it happened. I told my story and he asked me a few questions. Now I understand that they have to ask questions to make sure you have not been abusing your child but two of the questions were downright stupid. “So was this a farmyard rooster or a fighting rooster?” “Yeah, I raise fighting cocks on the side for extra money.” HA! I was a good girl and just told him it was a farmyard rooster. Then came, ” Was she trying to pet him or something? They don’t usually attack without being provoked.” Since when does a rooster need a reason to attack someone??? The last one thought me giving him his breakfast was a good reason to scratch the back of my legs.  *sigh* Don’t pretend to know something about something you know nothing about. Otherwise, all went well. Child Protection Services has not showed up at my door and nor the police. Eden screamed through the stitching up process (she needed three) and was so exhausted afterward she fell asleep before we left the hospital. Poor peanut! She was a trooper through most of it. I hope this will be our last trip to the emergency room for a long time! Maybe I should consider giving up my hobby of cock fighting…anybody know some good chicken recipes?

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2 Responses to To The Emergency Room We Go…

  1. Laura says:

    Good Morning Brooke!

    Just wanted to stop by and thank you for visiting my blog and entering my give-away. I LOVE this story…and can totally relate! Our previous rooster…before the very tame one we have now… was NASTY! I had these pink garden clogs…and whenever I would wear them…he would chase me all over the yard! He soon became a delicious soup! So…I believe you…even if the authorities end up at your front door! LOL!

    Sweet blessings,
    Laura

    • Brooke says:

      Thanks, Laura! Those roosters can be nasty buggers. I think we will be content without one until my children are older. 🙂

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