if your name is arliss pigg and you got to this page by googling yourself, and who among you hasn’t googled themselves, you’re probably wondering why you’re here. i heard your name on the local news a few weeks ago and, because it’s like the best name ever, named my rooster after you. i’m being completely honest when I say your name is amazing – it rolls off my tongue like butter and the 2 “s”s and 2 “g”s are like poetry in motion.
if you’ve read this blog before you might be wondering why i have a rooster to name. after all aren’t i the one who got 10 1-week-old hens a few months ago, painstakingly hand raised them and kept 5 lovely hens. that is i, however, apparently the people at the chick sexing plant do not have an error percentage rate of 0% - in this case it was more like 20%. i’m not blaming the employee, perhaps they were having a bad day or they took a phone call in the middle of my order but i really, really did not want a rooster, much less two. that being said, arliss pigg is a keeper – he’s sweet, lets me hold him and cock-a-doodle-dos whenever he sees me, plus he has a great name. the other rotten, no good rooster is a rotten, no good rooster. this week he has taken to pecking the crud out of me whenever i try to deliver him a hearty meal or a nice cold glass of water. he’s got me terrified to go into the damn chicken pen and every time i’m going in i tell dave if he hears me screaming to come help. apparently today he didn’t hear me screaming…had he heard me screaming and had a camera available he would have gotten an amazing shot of me poised in a karate kid position, trying to defend myself from a 5-lb rooster gone amuck. the rotten, no good rooster is going to his new home tomorrow.