A disagreeable rooster receives an unexpected surprise from a bass fisherman.
The rooster always turned in an Academy Award performance with the way that he would peck at the grass as if he was feeding, then look at you, peck at the grass, look at you — all the while inching his way closer and closer.
Our house in southern Ohio had a pond with some of the biggest bass in the county. For the avid angler to pursue those trophies at the southwest corner of our pond, though, he had to climb over a white fence in front of our chicken coop. From that tiny coop, we allowed our chickens to freely roam around that corner of the pond.
There was just one problem.
You would be fishing at the pond’s edge, with your back toward the foraging chickens, at which time, our only rooster would sneak away from the brood and slowly work his way toward you. He always turned in an Academy Award performance with the way that he would peck at the grass as if he was feeding, then look at you, peck at the grass, look at you — all the while inching his way closer and closer.
Then when he got within striking distance, he’d make his move. With flared neck feathers and flailing wings — Flap! Flap! Flap! — he would leap into the air and utter a loud Bekirck! Then he would kick his feet at you, attempting to jab you with the spurs on his heels. You would have to use your fishing rod and jab him to keep him at bay, until he’d eventually abort the attack.
One year, my Uncle Denny, who was a very experienced bass fisherman, stopped by one August evening to try his luck in our pond, and he asked me to join him. Uncle Denny decided to climb over the infamous white fence and ply his lures in that southwestern corner of the pond. I chose to remain on the safe side of the white fence and work the southern shore.
After a few minutes of fishing, I saw our white rooster pecking and looking, advancing toward Uncle Denny’s back. I warned my uncle, but he merely kept fishing, so I figured I’d mind my own business.
I resumed fishing, but then I heard “Flap! Flap! Flap! Bekirck!”
A moment later, I heard some harsh words from Uncle Denny, and then a splash. Uncle Denny had thrown our rooster into the pond! He flapped and flailed on the water’s surface, eventually reaching the shore … and that mean ol’ rooster never attempted another attack on a fisherman.
Hilton Head Island, South Carolina
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