<p style="text-align:left;" align="center">Okay, I know today is Saturday, but I didn't remember yesterday was Friday! I know CW Sara has loyal Miller Farm Friday readers and that's why I'm posting her  email blog. I do apologize and promise to pay more attention to the calendar and not just the clock in the future. </p>
<p align="center"><strong>Back in the Blog</strong></p>
<em>The chickens must have heard the rumors that they were being replaced in the blog by clothing/craft stories so they provided the following material this morning:</em>

<em>I noticed while observing our young roosters that male and female of every species share characteristics. </em>

<em>Our roosters have reached what I guess is the equivalent of adolescence and have started fighting. I used to believe that people trained roosters for cockfights, but I promise ours fight on their own.  Yesterday</em><em>I was convinced that two were fighting to the death.</em>

<em>Even Whitey – one of the hens – tried to break it up (just like a momma). </em>

<em>Finally, Samson, the chief rooster, based on seniority not on size as he is a bantam, “explained” to them how things were going to be. They stopped fighting.</em>

<em>Well this morning, I let the chickens out and, as usual, the roosters started their morning boxing bouts. They puff their chests out and bump up against each other kind of like men do at sporting events. Other times they fly towards each other and bump chests as well.</em>

[caption id="attachment_1930" align="aligncenter" width="200"]<img class="size-medium wp-image-1930" alt="2999740_XS" src="http://judythewriter.files.wordpress.com/2012/12/2999740_xs.jpg?w=200" width="200" height="300" /> Photo Credit: Andy Lyons/Getty Images Sport/Getty Images[/caption]

<em>As I was feeding and watering the birds, I discovered one young rooster was on the wrong side of the fence. I guess he had been “bumped” over.</em>

<em>Fortunately, the only dog outside at the time was Marv, our old mixed breed, and he was more interested in the stale hamburger buns in the shed than in the rooster in the yard. </em>

<em>Poor rooster was very confused so I was able to grab him easily.</em>

<em>He did protest as I tossed him back into the chicken yard. I have the scratch on my arm and the mud on my shirt to show for it.</em>

<em>I asked my son Matthew if I needed to change shirts before I took him to school. (Remember he warned me to stay in the car when I was wearing my special sweatshirt.) He decided that rooster footprints were not as tacky as a sweatshirt with handprints.</em>

<em>However, since I was taking breakfast to Beekeeper Brian at his school, I decided to put on a clean shirt. Embarrassing kids is one thing but husbands are off limits.</em>

<strong>YOUR TURN:</strong> What do you think are sports bumps and cockfights alike?