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I saw your post on your mean rooster and had to laugh, we use to have a very mean rooster too that had huge spurs on the back of his legs about and inch and a half long. When I was about 10, I though it would be funny to throw a cat into the chicken pen. The rooster did not think it was funny at all, he came after me and jabbed both spurs into my legs. I still have a scar on each leg from him, that mean old thing. However, now I see that he was just trying to protect his fellow chickens from a mischevious kid. I use to hate gathering eggs, I was afraid of being pecked. My Dad, trying to toughen me up, wouldn't let me back in the house until I did it too. And then eating the eggs were gross to me as well, the yolks were so orange! Fun memories.
Regards,
Dusti
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From: KathleenCorrigan@AOL.COM[SMTP:KathleenCorrigan@AOL.COM]
Reply To: mol-cancer@lists.meds.com
Sent: Saturday, April 08, 2000 11:05 AM
To: mol-cancer@lists.meds.com
Subject: Re: [MOL] BOLDLY going to the OUTHOUSE!
Dear John: When I was a little girl visiting my mother's grandparents, I
really had to go before I'd go, if you know what I mean! They had the
nastiest rooster on earth, and the beastly creature would chase me all the
way to the outhouse, pecking at the backs of my chubby little legs! I hated
him. I used to dream we ate him for dinner! I think he probably died of old
age, the mean old thing.
Love, Kathy
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