He's totally fine inside the coop, and pretty good in the pen. The problem is when they are out and Mom is trying to shoo them in. He perceives this as an attack.
Well, he pecks your foot kind of tentatively, but puts serious effort into coming at you with his rather frightening feet, claws, spurs, whatever you call them.
He really scared me earlier this week. He kept coming at me, and I was kicking him, and he would come at me again and again. I read later, I should have backed away. I was acting like a chicken. Ilze suggested the stick. I have a walking stick, and I do not use it, but it seems to keep him from attacking me. He thinks I am threatening his hens, I think.
The white rooster we had at the Creamery in Manchester preferred to attack from behind. You could tell he was getting closer when the clacking rhythm of his claws on the gravel got faster and faster.
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I called him Iggy as he looked like an eagle when he was younger, always beautiful.
Is he still trouble?
He's totally fine inside the coop, and pretty good in the pen. The problem is when they are out and Mom is trying to shoo them in. He perceives this as an attack.
What does he do?
Plus, Iggy was the name of my ill-fated iguana.
Well, he pecks your foot kind of tentatively, but puts serious effort into coming at you with his rather frightening feet, claws, spurs, whatever you call them.
Good lord!
He really scared me earlier this week. He kept coming at me, and I was kicking him, and he would come at me again and again. I read later, I should have backed away. I was acting like a chicken. Ilze suggested the stick. I have a walking stick, and I do not use it, but it seems to keep him from attacking me. He thinks I am threatening his hens, I think.
Got 'blind sided' this morning. Ilze had asked me if that had happened yet. Teddy got me on the back of my calf, broke the skin through my pants.
S**t! eak or talons? After the photo?
Ok, that looks like I wrote steak, whereas I was thinking more of breast tenders. I meant to write Beak or talons.
Yes, after the photo.
The white rooster we had at the Creamery in Manchester preferred to attack from behind. You could tell he was getting closer when the clacking rhythm of his claws on the gravel got faster and faster.
I think we should have a lottery kind of draw at Thanksgiving and the "winner" gets Iggy!
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