Ivan the Terrible

One day my lovely silky bantam hens were innocently feeding on breakfast crumbs when Ivan appeared. The sky darkened. Ivan the Terrible, our one and only rooster, thought he owned the world. I mean, look at the sky. The biggest hen turned toward him, clucked, and gave him her best stink eye. She scratched the crumbs, flinging them toward him, hitting him square on his cockscomb. His evil right eye flashed but he paused, ruffled his tail feathers and fled.