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We've lived in the city for the past 30+ years, moving a few times,
but always to another civilized part of town.
Many moons ago, we could hear a rooster crowing a few blocks away.
This rather nostalgic addition to our SUV crazed neighborhood always
put a smile on my face and told me that some of the people moving in
probably enjoyed a non-American culture.
Then about a month ago, the people on our south side thought it would
be good to start raising hens and a rooster, little caring that some people
on this side of the fence were light sleepers and only getting about 5 hours
sleep due to this more than exhuberant yellow crowned cock crowing at
dawn.
Our neighbor, Wendy, called Animal Control more than once. They visited
the owners, were given warnings, ultimatums, etc. Okay, they'd take care
of it. Right. "Do you have a rooster?" "No," they said. They had given him
to their neighbor next to them.
My daughter yells at Barb this morning, "There's a rooster in our yard!"
Police were dispatched, a big net drawn, and the chase began. The bird
hid under the Red Flame grape vines, but was soon flushed across the lawn,
around the back of the house and cornered on the north side. Finally netted
and grabbed by his cute little feet, it was more than granddaughter, Angel,
could stand. She loved the whole affair and had to explain the whole event
to me when I got home from church.
Case closed. No more early morning crowing tomorrow. No more excitement.
Wendy is wonderfully happy that the old bird knew how to fly and decided
to make his escape. Funny how some problems kind of solve themselves.
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