My first understanding of how bullying feels came from a rooster my eight-year-old daughter caught at the county fair. Since she picked the one with the $5.00 bill around his leg she also “won” the rooster.

The rooster liked everyone but me. I became a prisoner in my home. When I went outside the rooster would strut up to me; circle me, and attack; fly at my face with his feet. I couldn’t wash windows or refinish furniture in the building because the rooster would show up out of nowhere and start his routine.

When I went for my early morning jog, I would swing a broom to keep him away. I would leave it at the end of the lane so I could get back to the house.

I detested the rooster, and it was a tough situation because he was my little girl’s pet. I would have looked like a bad mom had he become dinner.

Terrified of the twelve-inch rooster, I never went outside without exactly knowing where he was.

After several months of rooster abuse, as I reached for the morning broom, I looked out the window and stopped cold. Feathers covered the yard. Tons of feathers. My hand flew to my mouth, and I inched closer to the window to see if I saw correctly.

It was a surreal, glorious moment, and it confirmed my appreciation for coyotes. I whispered, “There IS a God!”

I also felt guilty, but not for long.

The “prize” rooster was a bully: he isolated one person, was sneaky, did not care about his victim, had support from others (my family who laughed), and he was relentless in his intimidating behavior.

Bullying hurts.

I learned NOT to be the rooster.

Until the next time: Live while you live!

Dr J’s Comments

Bullies come in all styles and shapes. I hope I don’t fall in the category, ever. If we concentrate on kind thoughts, nice words, and doing the right thing, I think we are safe.