Cocky, the farm rooster, has been pushing his luck somewhat. 6ft2inch brother in law was shaken (not stirred) when Cocky took a dislike to his appearance in the yard and tried to see him off in manner of a guard dog. After the laughter died down the rooster received his first warning. Any more of that and its into the pot with you. This seems to have fallen on deaf ears. The farmer was to been seen this very morning collecting the newspaper from the garden gate clutching a yellow plastic spade with which to fend off aforesaid rooster, and I had to pick up a stick to poke the wretched bird away from the horse physio this afternoon. Therefore, I think that counts as a third and final warning. Sadly, neither the farmer nor I have the courage to actually do the necessary, so we await the return of the Big Boy from Bonnie Scotland. He'll do it. Probably. It will leave us cockerel free - but that will be a happy alternative if we have to endure many more days of apologising for the disgraceful behaviour of the current incumbent of 'top bird' in the farmyard!
The wrinkly old hand is mine (didn't that photograph badly!) and almost shows the swelling and bruising of the dislocated finger. If only it could show you the pain!!!
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