Me vs. big bubba
Jasen and Big Bubba
Big Bubba was part of my first batch of chicks after we purchased the Buckeye Barn property. We still lived in a subdivision at that point, but I was so anxious to get chickens in anticipation of our move that I bought 60 chicks and started raising them in the garage. If only the HOA knew about that! <eyeroll>. Those chicks lived in our garage for about 6 weeks until I moved them over to the barn.
One of those sweet little fluff balls was a pure black rooster that had a bad eye. I doctored his eye for several days until he was able to partially open it, but it never fully went back to normal. I don’t think he can see out of it very well. Over the past 3 years , Big Bubba and I have had some disagreements. I’m in the barnyard every single day, but somehow, he thinks I’m an imposter. No matter that I give him food and scraps, treats and corn. He doesn’t think I belong. Maybe he has long term memory loss. Bubba’s also been known to chase the kids and an occasional dog around the yard. Some of the kids know to carry a stick for protection when Bubba’s around. Oddly enough, he has never, ever attempted to attack my husband Darrin. I don’t get it. It must be a “male thing.” Maybe he blames me for not curing his bad eye.
Now, there are lots of opinions and theories of how to break a rooster from trying to flog you.
#1. Kick the chicken’s butt across the yard.
#2 Chase after the chicken, flapping your arms and make him run from you, all the while yelling “I am the king of the barnyard!”.
#3. Pick said chicken up, pet him and talk nicely while carrying him around for awhile. Note: Do NOT put your face close to his, lest he peck your eyes out.
#4. Grab the chicken and pin him to the ground in a dominant manner while calling him all the bad names you cannot say in church.
#5. Waterboarding. I haven’t actually tried this method yet, as I’m waiting on my Chicken Torture Methods package from Amazon.
#6. Choking the chicken. This is a lesson from my beloved Mother-In-Law, Lil Wyatt, who as a child tried to kill a chicken for dinner by swinging him around by his neck. After watching the chicken flop around for a few minutes thinking she had done a fine job securing meat for the evening meal, the chicken hopped up and ran away, right as rain! This is exactly what happened when I choked Big Bubba. I’m certain he has some kind of chicken powers from the dark side. He even looks like it with his huge meaty body, covered in shiny, pure- black feathering and bright red wattles and comb. And when he cocks his head to the side (looking at you with his good eye) as if measuring you up and determining his plan of attack, you actually go through all your escape options in your head while wishing you didn’t forget the stick in front of the barn. Or if you’re a 6 year old little boy, you run like hell screaming for someone to save you from the meat-eating monster!
Well, I think Big Bubba and I have had our final showdown of late. He got me good this time and I don’t think I can forgive and forget. The only reasons he’s escaped the stew pot for this long is because he is a very handsome boy and he’s a good protector of the ladies in the barnyard. In spite of those outstanding qualities, there does come a point when extreme measures have to be taken since he’s taken his role as Warrior and turned it into Terminator.
Many of us who have endured the wrath of Big Bubba and have reoccurring nightmares of giant chickens taking over the world, chasing farmers through the garden and terrorizing young children won’t feel too bad when he meets his maker on the next processing day. We may even have a party in his honor. We’ll serve chicken nuggets. As for me, I’ll always have something to remember him by. (Yes, that bruise covers half my leg.)
Also, if you’re interested in purchasing your very own home grown bird for your dining table, neither my Mother-in-law nor I will be in charge of wringing its neck. It will come to you, all cleaned, plucked and packaged for your freezer. Send us a message here:
