Talk about humbling. Nothing prepares you for the moment you’re sitting in the ER while the doctor casually asks, “So… what happened today?” and you have to look another adult human directly in the eyes and say:
“I was attacked by a rooster.”
Not a car accident.
Not a sports injury.
Not some dramatic survival story involving a bear or shark.
Nope. A rooster with anger issues.
And the worst part? You immediately start trying to defend yourself because you can feel the judgment. “Okay, but listen… he had HEIGHT advantage. There were tactical maneuvers involved. He came in hot. It was premeditated.”
Meanwhile I’m pretty sure the nurses were trying not to laugh while typing: Patient involved in poultry-related altercation.
Somewhere in that hospital paperwork there is likely now an official medical record stating that I lost a fight with a feathered dinosaur named Kung Pow.
Imagine spending years building a business, becoming a professional pet sitter, winning awards, earning trust in the community… only for your villain origin story to become:
Defeated by yard bird.
And I just know when I left the ER that rooster was back at the coop telling the hens, “Tell them what happened, ladies.” 🐓
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