Opinion: Cats are the weirdest yet funniest pets.... Mine likes to lick the edges of plastic bags. Not like, grocery bags, but plastic plastic bags. She is wacko.

Tip: Keep a watergun handy for spraying at the neighbor's pets when they try to get in a fight with yours. If you're near. Our neighbor's cat is a jerk. He comes into our backyard just trying to fight with our cat, who never ever goes looking for trouble and once 'defended' our driveway from two big dogs. Good watchkitty.

All right, I'll list my pets, then general tips and info that I've picked up from observation about that species.

Bearded Dragon (we named ours Liz): Bearded Dragons are EPIC pets! Does anyone else have one? 

Once, many, many moons ago, the fire alarm went off. Of course, my siblings and I raced from our rooms, tripping over everything and making a generally good amount of noise. Dad came upstairs, called the false alarm, and we went back to bed. The next day, Liz got sick. I tried to make him feel better in any way possible, which included, strangly, me dumping the contents of my water glass on top of him and massaging his scaly back. So, he actually liked the water; I could just tell. 

A few days later, a pet store worker told us the sudden loud noises affected Bearded Dragons, and water helps them feel better! Imagine that!

Moral of story: Fire alarms are unpredictable. 

A flock of chickens (all named after rocks and minerals): I KNOW that with so many of you someone has to have chickens. They really aren't all that uncommon these days! So, I need some advice. WHAT do I do with a "peckasious" rooster? He attacks us and pecks and scratches us rather violently for a young rooster. So far, I've been having to fight him back (with a stick as my sword and a trashcan lid for my shield). How can I drill into that comb-adorned head that I am not an enemy? 

Moral of story(ish): Trashcan lids are useful.

A GOAT!: All right, I admit. Starlight the goat is my favorite pet (don't tell Amethyst I said that! That chickiedoodle adores me). She's almost two months old, so were trying to get her on solid food, but she likes the milk bottle so darn much! Any advice? Oh, and people say that goats can't be trained like dogs. Uh...yes they can! Starlight comes when she is called, never leaves home unless told to (we leave her freely outside pretty much all day, and we don't have a fence), and is generally a sweet thing. 

Moral of this story(ish): Goats are under-rated.

A bun-bun (named Thumper): Thumper and I are having trouble bonding. Any ideas???

All right, I'll list my pets, then general tips and info that I've picked up from observation about that species.

Bearded Dragon (we named ours Liz): Bearded Dragons are EPIC pets! Does anyone else have one? 

Once, many, many moons ago, the fire alarm went off. Of course, my siblings and I raced from our rooms, tripping over everything and making a generally good amount of noise. Dad came upstairs, called the false alarm, and we went back to bed. The next day, Liz got sick. I tried to make him feel better in any way possible, which included, strangly, me dumping the contents of my water glass on top of him and massaging his scaly back. So, he actually liked the water; I could just tell. 

A few days later, a pet store worker told us the sudden loud noises affected Bearded Dragons, and water helps them feel better! Imagine that!

Moral of story: Fire alarms are unpredictable. 

A flock of chickens (all named after rocks and minerals): I KNOW that with so many of you someone has to have chickens. They really aren't all that uncommon these days! So, I need some advice. WHAT do I do with a "peckasious" rooster? He attacks us and pecks and scratches us rather violently for a young rooster. So far, I've been having to fight him back (with a stick as my sword and a trashcan lid for my shield). How can I drill into that comb-adorned head that I am not an enemy? 

Moral of story(ish): Trashcan lids are useful.

A GOAT!: All right, I admit. Starlight the goat is my favorite pet (don't tell Amethyst I said that! That chickiedoodle adores me). She's almost two months old, so were trying to get her on solid food, but she likes the milk bottle so darn much! Any advice? Oh, and people say that goats can't be trained like dogs. Uh...yes they can! Starlight comes when she is called, never leaves home unless told to (we leave her freely outside pretty much all day, and we don't have a fence), and is generally a sweet thing. 

Moral of this story(ish): Goats are under-rated.

A bun-bun (named Thumper): Thumper and I are having trouble bonding. Any ideas???

Moral of this story(ish): Bunnies do not like carrots.

@Rose bud, I'm sooo sorry that I can't help you, but my only experiances with roosters were when I was 6 or 7.

I would like to know though, if any of y'all can help me with this problem ...

So we got two new chickens. (Who won't let me pet them. *glares at them*) We were origanally getting two eggs a day. Then my mom told me to reduce their food amount because she thought I was giving them too much.

But, after I had done that, Evy (the larger hen) was the only one laying eggs. So I watched them eat for a bit once when I was taking care of them one morning. I discovered that Evanlyn was not worthy of the name she had.

Evy eats insanely fast, and uses her behind to occasionally shove poor Ruineth out of the way. 

So, my question is ... How do I make sure that Ruineth is getting enough to eat? (I gave them more food this morning, so we'll see how that goes.) 

You didn't tell me that, Cho! (and we named the bigger one Ruineth, not Evanlyn)

And so sorry that I can't help, Rose bud. My only experience with roosters was when I was 3-4. I remember that we had two roosters and they fought each other a lot, so we had to put down one. The other was Mr. Redlegs. (a Buff Orpington that was named for - Surprise! - his red legs.)

Here's chapter one of the rooster story I mentioned earlier! (I wrote this last week, and the events were from the Friday of the week before that, so this is not the most recent Friday that I speak of, but the one before it.) 

CHAPTER ONE: AN EMERGENCY 

On what must've been Friday morning (of last week), one of our roosters (who has no name yet--but will soon) got his feet stuck in the side of a wire portable chicken coop. We go out to do the chickens every afternoon, and that was when we found him. He'd been hanging there all day.

We were really confused when we saw him because our chickens have been living in harmony with that cage for months and nothing like that has happened! Deciding it was a freak accident, we unhooked him from the sides of the cage. We thought he was dead, but as we pulled his toes out of the wire, he moved, just a little!

Dazed, dizzy, and worn out, the rooster dully glanced around with his one eye. (He is blind in one eye.) He was alive, all right. We set him on top of the rain-tarp that covered half of the portable coop. He was in bad shape.

He needed to rest, and get away from the rain. Unfortunately, I couldn't care for him right away because we had already planned a trip for that night--and wouldn't return until Saturday evening. I carefully laid him underneath the plastic slide we sometimes use to get over the electric fence, (which was not in use right then, thankfully), and gave him some water and food. We didn't know if he was just dazed, or what. If he was just worn out, he'd be better by morning.

When we returned from the trip, I expected him to be either up and about, or dead. Well, what I got was sort of a mix of the two. He was alive, but not up and about. He'd hobbled over to a dip in the meadow, about five yards away from the slide, and was laying there in pain.

As I mentioned before, we hadn't returned until late Saturday evening. I had no time to cook up a plan to get this rooster healed--it was chores, a shower, and bedtime. All I could do was put him back under the slide, and tend to him as early the next morning as I dared.

Sunday morning, he wasn't looking good. But I'd done a bit of research and found a cool idea for a hammock-type thing that would keep the weight off of his legs while still allowing them to touch the ground. Before I built it, however, I needed to take an inventory of the problems going on with him.

His left leg, the leg that had taken the most strain from when he was hanging upside down, was a bit stretched out. I couldn't tell if it was broken or not--but I did know that if it was snapped, the break would be above the hock, possibly in his hip.

His right leg was stiff, but it was in the correct position for a rooster laying on his side--I wasn't too concerned with that leg. As I experimented with his leg movements, the rooster stayed absolutely silent. Not a good sign.

Things were looking...medium, shall we say. Not good, but not exactly bad, either. His comb was oozing a little bit of blood, but that was probably from the pressure of being upside down.

It was when I found the little cluster of yellow-orange worms that I got a little nervous...They weren't maggots; I have no idea what they were. They might've been eating the dust off his feathers; I don't know, but I snipped them off with scissors and that was that.

Honestly, I wasn't sure if the rooster would make it or not. I wasn't sure there was any hope for him. But I wanted to try and heal him. There was a tiny chance he'd live.

After the worm incident, I made him a hammock as fast as I could, clamped it up so that it hung inside a tote, and put the tote, complete with water and food for the rooster, back underneath the slide. Then, as weekends are (unfortunately) our busiest time of the week, we had to go to the store. Which took like two hours. By the time we got home, I barely had enough time to take care of my other animals before it was time to eat dinner and take a much-needed shower. That night, I wondered how my rooster was faring. He was officially my project; my patient. It was my job to make sure he lived through this--I was his only hope.

The next morning I went out to the chicken pasture to check on him. He was alive; that was good. I decided to move him closer to the house; the garage proved sufficient in both shelter and calm atmosphere.

However, as soon as I lifted him from his makeshift hammock, I realized that I'd made a mistake by not making a hole in the back side of it. Just a quick glance at the hammock--and the rooster--told me that a better sling would be needed.

I rushed inside and quickly fashioned him another hammock--this one with plenty of room for his rear.

I don't know what I was thinking, though. I didn't wash him off or anything as I settled him back into his tote. It was a display of irresponsibility that he and I would both pay for the next day.

Of course, it was Monday, which meant school. By the afternoon, my brain was tired of algebra and grammar and piano practice. I checked on my rooster, and offered him some water. (He'd had a bowl of water in his tote all day, but to my surprise it was full as it had been that morning! I hadn't realized that he couldn't reach it. Another thing to add to my 'things I learned on Monday' list--make sure your patient can reach their water bowl!) After a good, long drink, he appeared to be feeling much better. I was glad that my newly-improved hammock was working the way it should, and I discovered that if I pulled his left leg up into the hammock so it didn't touch the ground, it would both lean him closer to the water and completely immobilize the leg--ensuring that he wouldn't injure it any more by moving it.

As we do every afternoon, Moonfrost and I went to do the chickens after I completed that check-in. Strangely enough, we found a pile of buff-colored feathers near the porable coop of the rooster incident. Hmm. Perhaps it wasn't so accidental that the rooster had hung himself up after all.

My thoughts wandered back to Friday. We'd had company over, and they'd gone to the store that Friday morning. They'd seen something unbelieveable on their way out, which they shared with us over lunch.

Suddenly it clicked. Things made sense now.

The fox our grandparents had seen Friday morning had to be to blame.