Rocky, the Rooster

I was cutting through a small field walking to class one day (involved in my own thoughts about the anatomical structure of vertebra) and I came across one of the master race roosters. I turned a small stone wall and there he was, Rocky the Rooster. Bigger than a bread box? Much. This was a rooster on steroids, clearly on a workout program and huge (the photo doesn't do him justice).

I stopped short. For a short moment, we glared at each other as he thought to himself, "I can take this human". Then his little chicken brain kicked in and he realized that this was likely not the case. In true chicken fashion, he scampered off into the surrounding brush. Thank goodness. I think he would have actually kicked my ass. I think I need to carry a big stick when I walk to class.