Fortunately, I will recover. The wounds are not mortal.
But next time I may not be so lucky...
If you are afraid of gore or are among those who faint at blood, I will forgive your skipping the pictures. Cover your eyes or just skip down to the text below.
I will understand.
But here is the gruesome evidence.
Here is a close up for your inspection of the severity of the laceration.
I know I should be thankful that I still breath this earth's air and that I am among the land of the living. Please do not cry for me or lament my awful misfortune.
At this point, I know you are asking one fundamentally important question:
How pray tell did I acquire such a dramatic and life threatening injury?
Answer: Mr. D (Our intrepid Danish leghorn rooster).
As I was collecting eggs this week, Mr. D decided he wanted to renew our previous grievance, and that he would show me his extra special rooster attack. The atrocious wound in the pictures occurred through jeans. And there was no hole in the jeans, but Mr. D succeeded in harming me!!!! How dare he!!!!
Even stranger yet, I did not even feel his spurring on my leg. The rooster was just hopping around my leg and I kicked him a few times. Then as I was walking back to the house with my hostages ("the eggs") I felt something strange on my leg.
I was all, "WTF!!" Is my leg burning a little bit? "Why yes it is!"
I stooped down and pulled up my pants and voila! The red puncture wound you see was there on my leg!
Methinks Mr. D has been taking additional ninja lessons..... Hmmmmmmm.
As the scab on my leg clings to my skin reminding me of this evil assault, I think revenge is not far away. A slow roast over a BBQ is just the cure.
Now I am totally freaking my self out, since all I can think of is that I am Hannibal from Silence of the Lambs. Now the only question is, "Where can I get some fava beans?"
