When I was about 3 years old maybe 4, on my grandmother's farm, I remember chasing a flock of chickens. I was too young to realize I was distressing them. I thought it was fun to watch them run and squawk when I ran around them. The rooster got tired of it and turned and attacked me. He was all over me and pecked at my arms and legs. I remember my mom, aunts and grandma running out of the farmhouse to see what all the commotions about. They took me inside, I screamed and cried, traumatized by the attack. I remember sobbing while they washed my wounds.
That was the school of hard knocks, I never chased chickens again. BTW, we had chicken that night for dinner and I remember them plucking chicken feathers. I wonder if it was the rooster?
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