As usual, I have a chicken story.
This one isn't as crazy as some.
Just this evening, I was in the bathroom, doing a thing chickens do outside.
My wife was taking care of the hen, bringing her in for the evening, filling up feeders, etc.
Well, big boy rooster had enough of her and decided to take his complaints to the head office.
He busts his way into the house, as the back door was ajar. He's burbling and crowing and generally scrabbling on the linoleum.
My wife is calling him to GTFO of the house.
I start laughing, and he hears me. This results in him gobbling like a damn turkey and running around looking for me. I call his name in the friendly voice I use for him (I use a different pitch and tone for each chicken. Don't ask me why. But they can tell who I'm talking to) he starts up his popcorn maker: tuk-tuk-tuk-tuk-tuk, stomping back and forth outside the bathroom.
The bathroom door opens outward, but doesn't latch well. He gets a beak in and pops it open.
I give it a little push, and he closes it because he's a rooster and they're not very bright. He scrabbles at it again, I push it again, and he gets mad at the door and pecks it a bit. This, luckily, makes him angrier, and he backs up a little to fuck that door up.
I give it another push, and he comes flapping and bawking into the bathroom. He stops short as he runs into the shower door and bawks twice before looking around, seeing me and turning into a teakettle.
Chickens make this rising, gargling sound when they're surprised. It sounds like a raspy teakettle. This is opposed to the sound they make when they're startled, and feel threatened, which is an angry teakettle.
Anyway. This giant-ass bird is now on tile, in a room full of light, and there I am with naked legs. This is a sight that made him sit down. He gobbles again, pecks at my leg hair until I tell him to cut it out in my "you're gong to be soup, you obstreperous bastard" voice. He backs up, stops trying to pull out hair, and just freezes for a moment. He looks me up and down, flaps his wings, and decides "fuck it".
He jumps into my lap. With his giant, taloned feet. He wiggles and stomps until his tail is under my arm, and he's in the position he gets scritches under his feathers in.
Now, this bird, I haven't weighed. But he's damn near the size of a basketball without his feathers. Like, when he's wet, and they're all droopy and sad, that's about where he is; it isn't like I've shaved him or anything. Yet.
So, while I'm trying to finish the job, I'm entertaining a rooster on my lap because I didn't come outside to say goodnight. My wife is laid out in the floor of the porch laughing at me until she can't breathe.
The hen, at this point, has poked her head in and noped the hell out. So has every human in the house. Because of course everyone wants to see a sasquatch petting his cock on the toilet. Which is exactly what my wife texted everyone on her contact list apparently.
Which is the end of the good part of the story. But, this rooster normally dislikes staying in the crate on the back porch because he has to wait on someone to let him out in the morning. But, for whatever reason, once we had exited the bathroom, he stomps his way over to it, and insists that he be put in (it's elevated because my back ain't bending down to check on him at night). So, he is spending the night on the porch in good weather because he has had a mood.