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Today when I stopped at the local flower shop, A. J.’s, to pick up a bouquet for Mae Hernlund, who was celebrating her birthday and homecoming from rehab at her home in Round Mountain, a rooster menaced me!

Yes, a wandering, strutting and crowing rooster sporting some fair sized spurs was declaring the lawn of the flower shop his territory. Now I really can’t say I was scared but I did give it some thought because I know chickens will chase and even fly at you if they feel like it. A nice man, who I think is Robin’s husband, called the rooster by name and shooed him away, SEVERAL times.

Come to find out, the rooster belongs to Gordon at Crofts Funeral Home and I suppose Mr. Rooster has a pen but since chickens can fly he goes where ever he wants to these days. He is often in residence at A. J.’s, but don’t let me scare you away and ruin Robins’ business, he probably is not a bad guy but was just telling me he was there first.

You’d think after living in the country for nearly 30 years, I wouldn’t let a little thing like a crowing rooster give me reason to be cautious, but you never know do you?

My husband has a story about a menacing rooster from his childhood. They lived in Austin, but back then Tarrytown wasn’t in the city limits, I don’t think, because they had acreage and chickens and a horse on their property. It was Pats’ duty at age 8 to collect the eggs. Often before he even got into the chicken yard, one particular rooster would see him coming and run for the gate and then fly up, fluttering his wings, crowing and being aggressive. Pat was intimidated by the bird and so while away at school one day he thought and thought how to put an end to this threat. He got home from school picked up his handy dandy Daisy Defender BB gun and headed for the chicken yard.

Looking around to see if anyone was watching him he took aim and shot the rooster in the head killing him on the spot. Later that evening his dad came upon the rooster and said to Pat that he’d found the dead rooster and wondered what had happened to it. Pat’s answer was more of a question, not wanting to out and out lie to his father, "Maybe one of the other roosters pecked him to death in a fight, Dad." Well maybe, but of course that wasn’t it. Many years later the subject of the rooster came up and Pat’s father admitted to Pat that he had seen what Pat had done but decided the rooster needed killing anyway and just let it go.

Animals can be a threat, real or imagined. Years ago, while on a walk on our ranch, I crossed the cattle guard at the end of our road and found myself on our neighbor’s property. While I was walking I never heard or saw anything behind me, but when I crossed over and turned to make sure my dog had made it across, I saw that all of our cows had followed me and were gathered there.

The worry was that these were a new bunch of cows that I wasn’t used to and I didn’t know the friendly cows from the others and the bull seemed pretty fearsome, at least to me. There they stood at the cattle guard with me on the other side. It turns out they thought I had food and intended to stick around until I fed them or fell over from heat stroke. My dog Candy was a young dog then and not really used to the cows being so close to her, so she was cutting up and some of the cows began to paw the dirt and snort at her.

I don’t remember how long we were there in the "Mexican standoff", but if it hadn’t been lunch time Pat would not have come looking for me, maybe for hours. You know how it is with husbands, when its time for lunch they begin to wonder where the wife/cook is. He thought it was pretty funny, but I had no intention of just busting through the herd of cows and one bull hoping I could carry out my bluff and bravado to escape. Maybe cows are like I hear horses are, that they can tell if you are afraid and use that to their advantage. Now don’t laugh; I was new to the country and animals.

Another time on a walk up by our barn, I came upon a huge white mule that belonged to Melvin Sultemeier. I am plumb scared of horses and mules and this one was huge...broad and tall, and he was whinnying and up on his back feet and kicking his front ones. Apparently he didn’t like my looks and was trying to scare me away. Well it worked, because I began to make my way through the brush and cactus away from the road and he decided I wasn’t worth chasing and stood his ground.

You just never know what you might come upon out in the country, or even in town it seems. I guess chickens are a lot like cats because it seems there is no way to contain them if they are set upon wandering about. Back when my daughter Mary was Nanny to the Hacker twins, she was sitting by the window in the house talking on the phone to me when she excitedly told me a fancy looking chicken had jumped up on the window sill. That was exciting enough for Nanny and the girls, but while the chicken was sitting there, it laid an egg!

Nanny Mary and I had another adventure once when taking Maddy and Katie to the park by the river in Blanco to see the ducks. Most of the ducks were passive and happy enough to waddle about quacking and pecking but one mean duck decided to chase us.The faster we ran, each carrying one twin, the faster the duck ran and the louder it quacked. Mary and I mounted a picnic bench in jig time each with a kid in tow and all of us screaming. Then we of course looked around to see if anyone saw two grown ups running from a bunch of ducks! Ducks don’t like to be screamed at, so forget that part and just run!