My dad always told about when he was 9-10 years old and his mom had a mean Rhode Island Red rooster that always wanted to flog him and his brothers. He and his his next older brother, Jim, got the idea to steal some of his daddy’s corn liquor (probably made by my mom’s dad), soak corn in it and feed the corn to the mean rooster. He said grandma was worried about her prize rooster getting sick and couldn’t figure out what was wrong with it, it was acting like it it was drunk. Grandma eventually figured out they were involved and switched a confession out of them. The rooster became a teetotaler and the boys couldn’t sit down for a spell. Grandma got it right by naming them James and John, because they were definitely “sons of thunder”, as they were always kicking up a storm of one kind or another.
I hope you enjoyed Don’s story about his grandmother’s rooster and his dad and uncle’s remedy for the rooster as much as I do.
The meanest rooster we’ve ever had was the one in the photo above. His name was Rex. He was a big rooster. We joked that a small child could ride him.
He got so bad to flog us and terrorize the hens that the girls and I declared we’d never go back to the chicken lot unless The Deer Hunter did something to stop him. He loaded Rex up early one morning and took him to work to give to a friend. Rex lived out the rest of his days in the Junaluska section of Cherokee County.
He continued to be mean at his new home too, but finally met his match when bobcat ate him for a tasty meal.
Last night’s video: Granny Shows Us How To Make Her Famous Holy Smoke Cake.
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Lucky my husband is not a chicken lover, but he loves to raise chickens so we have our own eggs. We had a rooster in the bunch he named Roho. Roho was the rooster from H—. He would flog you if you looked at him. My moma never let anything get the best of her especially when it came to protecting her own brood. As usual, all of us kids has lunch after church with her and dad. Lucky asked for a plate of chicken and dumplins. He said “Ailene, you know I don’t like chicken, but I believe these are the best chicken and dumplins I have ever eaten.” Granny (mom Ailene) said ” Well they should be, you are eating Roho.” Lucky said “surly you didn’t kill Roho.” She said “surly I did and started laughing.” Honestly, I thought Lucky was going to throw up and cry. We all got a big kick out of it. There was 10 of us plus our families at mom’s and dad’s each Sunday. We would have a ball of fun. We love to watch you all enjoying each other. God bless.
I have never had a rooster, and chickens either. I always wanted some to raise. My husband raised them and so did my Mom’s parents when she was young. she use to tell me she would get flog by a mean chicken. That makes me a little unsure if I want to or not. Cause if a chicken or rooster flogs me. It will be in the pot.
Knew a sweet rooster that followed me around everywhere I went outside my house till the day he died. I saved him from a dog that was busy pulling mouthfuls of his feathers out whiling holding him pinned to the ground. He was my neighbor’s rooster that would run over to me as soon as he saw me. Never knew they were that smart.
I have wrote way too much today, but I thought of a story by Robert Hitt Neill. His books are very entertaining. In this story , he tells of him and his brother catching a mean rooster on their farm when they were boys and putting it in their mailbox and then watching and waiting on the mailman. For some reason they didn’t like him. It was hectic to say the least when the mailman opened the door and the rooster went into the car with him. He also said his daddy didn’t think it was nearly as funny as they did and it was awhile before they could sit down without it being painful.
Like Sanford and I said, the best way to make a mean (bad) rooster good is by using him to make a pot of chicken and dumplings. Even if he is old and tough I guess you could use him to make the broth for the dumplings. After boiling and making the broth, Mother would keep the meat separate from her dumplings. If a bantam rooster got to be as big as these others breeds of roosters he would be able to whip everything on the place. I could write a story about an old time preacher, training his bird dogs and bantam chickens.
I had a couple of bantams that turned mean. One flogged and spurred me on the back of my let just about face level with my two kids. I grabbed both roosters and cut the spurs off with a hacksaw. One of them was still mean but couldn’t hurt anybody.
When I was a kid we had a rooster that stalked the area between the house and our outhouse. When you had the need to use the outdoor facility, you had to allow time to run around the well-house and rabbit cages to get to the outhouse before the rooster intercepted you. Sometimes the outhouse door would be difficult to open and the rooster would spur your legs before you could get inside. Then once inside you had to peek through a crack in the door to see where the rooster was before you could sprint out the door and run to a safe place.
Loved today’s story! When I was young, I also was flogged by one mean rooster. To this day if I see a rooster, that is what I remember. I also loved last night’s video. I remember seeing a picture when she made that cake for the deer hunter’s birthday. I love how she is still able to cook and how she wants to do it her way. So sweet!! Ya’ll are so blessed to have this wonderful, sweet lady still in your lives. I still say Granny needs her own U-Tube channel. She’s the best of the best!!
Don’s story reminded me of a big white Leghorn rooster we used to have. He was a mean character and would slip up behind someone and spur them. He made the grave mistake of spurring my baby sister, in the back, when she was approximately 3-years old.
He made a big pot of “Chicken and Dumplings” that very same day.
Scientists say that modern day birds are descendants of dinosaurs. Assuming that is true then Rex must have been the g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-grandson of a tyrannosaurus rex. I don’t know that I believe all that but chickens, and especially roosters, can be vicious animals.
We used to burn off the beaks of our chickens and also the spurs off the roosters. That wasn’t so much to protect us from them but to keeping them from killing each other. People say the practice is cruel but it’s not nearly as cruel as they are to each other if it is not done.
I never met a rooster I didn’t like, unless he was old and stringy or too big to fit in the pot.
This comment has nothing to do with today’s blog. I like to look back and read the old blogs. I have just finished reading one from June9, 2020 about soft drinks such as Coke Cola or Pepsi being called dopes, I am from the south and anyone my age that was fortunate enough to be raised in the south knows how important textile mills more commonly known as cotton mills were in the south. I heard many old timers talk about dope wagons at the mills. This would be someone pulling a wagon (think Radio Flyer) through the mill full of drinks and snacks. This was before vending machines were so popular. The Dukes mayonnaise company was started from a recipe of a lady taking and selling sandwiches made with her homemade mayonnaise to the mill workers at the mills in Greenville, SC. Anyone else ever heard of a dope wagon? I don’t say dopes but I do along with others call all soft drinks no matter the brand a drank- let’s stop at the store and get us a drank.
That story gave me a chuckle.
I had a peacock that I raised from a baby. Lived with my chickens and duck just fine. Got mad when I let it out for the day and would run up behind me when I was almost in the house n jump up on my shoulders and neck area. First time , it scared me to death. I didn’t know what was happening. Then, I’d glance over my shoulder and watch him and see it coming. It met its match and died of meanest in a similar manner as Rex.
Love it love it love it.
Rex is such a great name for the rooster. I am sure Rex ended up fathering many wonderful
chicks and served his new masters well.
My uncle and aunt had a rooster that was also very protective (I think that is the word).
The rooster lived in his pen for years and was beloved at a distance.
My uncle who is now in his 90’s went to the rooster’s pen to care for him. The poor creature
had died of what was believed to be old age. Yes, even roosters get old.
I enjoyed yesterday and today’s Blind Pig and the Acorn posts. I had planned on writing a comment yesterday during my lunch break, but that turned out to be long enough to only inhale my meal and then get back to work. Both of my parents have told stories of being chased by roosters. I always wanted to raise chickens, but my life has never worked out to. I guess I’ve been too much of a city girl. Where I currently live, you can’t even have clotheslines in your yard. One of these days when I move again, that is the first thing I am going to check into before buying my next house – I miss my clothesline!! I think roosters chasing you and snakes in the hen’s nest have been the two major reasons I have not seriously pursued raising chickens. But I really enjoy hearing other people’s experiences with their’s. To tell you how seriously I have thought about getting my own chickens, I have three books I have bought over the last ten years devoted only to how to raise chickens – and I love looking at the many pictures in them!! I also want to add – that is a very wonderful picture of Paul, you, your grandmother and Steve in yesterday’s post. That smile of yours! Gorgeous! What a treasure of a picture to have!
Donna. : )
In 1950 we had a mean rooster that would flog the middle brother Jimmy, but one day he caught the rooster somehow and made a bridle designed by him made of baling wire, he was found by Mom and she unwired him and set him free but he would keep his distance from Jimmy from then on. Jimmy didn’t get to set for a while though after Mom got through with him.
great story! when we were raising chickens years ago, we had a mean rooster that ran free. whenever i was at the clothesline by my house, he would chase me and try to bite me. one day i had to hide in our workshop because i didnt have time to make it to the back door of our house. he had me cornered in there for an hour or so! i was happy when a wild animal ate him for lunch!
Great story by Don! I’ve been flogged by my neighbor’s mean rooster. I had just got out of my car from shopping when I felt something hit my leg. I had no idea it was the neighbor’s rooster until I turned around and saw him. He charged at me again so I took my purse and swung it at him. It just hit the top of his head and dazed him long enough so I could run in the house. Thankfully I had on my long jeans but his claws still cut through enough to leave a red mark on my leg. I’m thinking if I hadn’t had my long jeans on then my leg would have been cut up bad. Thankfully the neighbor moved and took that mean rooster with them. I’ve not liked roosters since that happened.
My daughter had about a dozen chickens and a mean rooster that roamed the neighborhood until all but the rooster became dinner for the hungry fox that lives in the woods. I keep a bag of food in my car to feed the rooster where he stays at the end of the lane. He recognizes my car and runs like a greyhound to come see what kind of treat I am leaving. The neighbors have videoed his reaction when he hears me coming down the lane. He spreads his legs and gets excited as if to say oh boy just before he comes running. He doesn’t run to meet any of the other vehicles that use the lane daily. The rooster has become mellow in his old age. He shares the German Shepherd’s water bowl and lets the little neighbor boy hand-feed him. And they say chickens are dumb…
My one and only rooster was a MEAN Rhode Island Red, also, named Rodney after the comedian that ‘got no respect’ Rodney Dangerfield. He waited until your back was turned then ran to gouge you with his claws. Finally when we were ‘putting up’ our old hens, he became one of the plastic bagged frozen meals. What we found while preparing him for Mean Rooster Soup was a 3″ long piece of wood driven up into one of his thighs which had grown over and we never had a clue he had been injured. (We were too busy running the other way to watch him run.) Instead of being happy, we all were sad for him and thought about how much pain he had to endure all his life. Couldn’t enjoy the soup while talking about him.
My granny kept chickens and one of my aunts, who was about 6 years older than I, was flogged by a mean rooster once. I hated that rooster and dreaded going into the chicken lot to gather eggs because of him. Not sure what happened to him, but I’m guessing my grandfather dispatched him to chicken heaven!
Mean roosters live up to my Dad’s saying about some people; that they would “fight a circle saw”. The thing with them is the victim’s actions do not need to be any threat to ‘his’ hens. Just being there is all it takes. As a fella I knew would say, ” All I said was ‘Good morning, Dog’ and he lit into me.” Now that is forevermore mean.
I’ve heard “fight a circle saw” all my life. I wonder if it means an actual saw.
I’m thinking the ‘circle saw’ referred to originally was the ‘head saw’ at a sawmill. Another kind of sawmill headsaw was the band saw so ‘circle’ was a meaningful distinction. When the portable ‘skil’ type saw became available in the 50’s they were also commonly called circular saws at first, rarely now though.
When I was a child mommy told me of a mean rooster she had. He would flog my daddy when he was just a little guy about 5 or so. One day mommy said she had it with that mean bad boy as she watched my daddy screaming getting flogged. She hustled out that back door, grabbed the old rooster by the neck and wrung it real good. Then she cooked him that very day! She said roosters have big spurs and can cut you up. Who knew this in the big metropolis? I sure did not. Btw, it looks like to me roosters fighting is a natural thing. I know cock fights are outlawed, but it looks like the roosters look forward to it. Smh… I went to one in Ecuador and it was “different.” There you can call a loss and pull your rooster out. Sometimes I don’t know what to think of it all…
loved these stories. my folks didn’t keep chickens. My husband’s family did and also geese. He told about the same story but it was a hoose that terrified him snd his 3 brothers
That was part of growing up, being assigned egg collection duty as a chore when you came of age.My nemesis was a Dominique rooster who was a holy terror.
Must have not scared me too bad as I’ve always kept Game roosters into adulthood.
Chickens are therapeutic, watching and listening to their puts and purrs as they interact with each other scratching in the yard
Whenever I think about mean roosters, the mean old rooster in the movie Cold Mountain comes to mind. When Nicole Kidman’s characters was again attacked by that rooster, Ruby Thewes, played by Renee Zellweger, killed it and said, “Let’s put him in a pot.” Renee stole the show!
My younger brother Paul had a pet rooster that he named Chirpy. That rooster was so tamed around Paul. Folks would stop along the side of the road to watch Paul pull his wagon behind him Chirpy riding in the back looking pleased as punch. That rooster hated me. I am 12 years older than my brother so I was already driving. Whenever I would go to and from the car that rooster would attack me and chase me from one place to the other.
My family thought it to be quite hilarious. I finally had to sit in the car and lay down on the horn each time I pulled in. Paul would come and hold Chirpy back until I could safely reach the door. One day the rooster disappeared. No one knew what happened to that bird. I did hear it from a good source that a fine young man along with his pretty gal gifted a neighbor with a rooster. That neighbor was known for her chicken and dumplings.
I love the post. Having experienced the wrath of a mean rooster myself. My Mother saw her rooster attack lil ole me, she promptly caught the rooster and wrung his head off.
When I was about 5 years old we had a rooster that would flog me every time I was in the yard. Daddy got mad, caught the rooster and held him by his feet and beat his head against the corner of the house and thought he had killed him, but the truth was he only knocked him out. A little later I came back out in the yard and the rooster had come too and he jumped on me again. There was no doubt this time, we took him to the chopping block and then Daddy told me to take the rooster to mama and tell her to fix us some chicken and dumplings for supper that night. Out of all the chickens we had over the years, this was the only mean rooster I remember. I think it may have been a game rooster.
I was once flogged by a mean ole rooster. A few days latter, while visiting a dermatologist, she asked me what happened to my leg, when I told her she of course laughed. Now every time I have my yearly check up she never fails to ask, how is that ole rooster. Cannot wait to try Granny’s cake, it does look tasty. Thanks for showing her, she is one in a million. God Bless.