Years ago I worked with a lady who had grown up on a farm in the Midwest. One of her chores as a kid was also to gather eggs. She told me that every morning she would go into the chicken coop with a basket and a broom.Now that we’ve moved to a larger property, my husband and mom really want chickens. When I was young, it was my job to collect the eggs. We had a big mean rooster named Rojo who made it HIS job to terrorize me every single time. He would attack me and peck me, and I would end up crying every time. I said then when I grew up,
I would never ever have chickens, and so far I’ve held to it!
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If a rooster flew up at her, she would swat it with the broom. Told me she always tried to bounce them off the wall. Any rooster she had to swat twice ended up in the stew pot.