Sunday Dinner

by Scott Smith

This morning while I was looking for eggs El Guapo snuck up and attacked me from behind. He actually drew (a small amount) blood. I yelled at him and threw a rock at him but he really wasn’t impressed with me. His days on this earth are numbered (my guess is that as soon as Scott reads this it’s over for him). I have terrible images of one of my children losing an eye and everything I’ve read says it will only get worse and no matter how we try to change his behavior we’ll never be able to trust him even if he becomes more afraid of us than we are of him. So, now the rooster I swore I’d never have will be no more. El Guapo must die.


Thought I would add a picture of El Guapo on his final day. He really was a pretty bird.