The Rooster in My Backyard

I have a rooster in my backyard. It crows early in the morning. When it crows it wakes up the neighbor's baby. When the baby cries it wakes up the other neighbor's dog. When the dog barks it wakes up my cat. When my cat screams it wakes me up. When I yell at the cat I wake up my roommate. What a way to start the day.

The first time I heard the rooster crow was about a week after I moved in. It was a sweltering August day and every window was opened as wide as it could go. The stale city air lazily meandered into my bedroom as the early morning light peaked over the flat rooftops. My dreams, as always, were filled with walls to paint, carpets to rip up and ceilings to mend...a dreamworld uncomfortably close to reality.

Just as I was demolishing a dreamy plaster wall and desperately gasping for a dust-free breath of air, a rooster popped out from behind my door. My dreams are weird, but this was ridiculous. I raised my hammer to scare the rooster away and simultaneously jerked myself out of my dream and back into my bedroom. I lowered my arm (still raised at the rooster) and re-closed my eyes when the sound came.

"Cock-a-doodle-doo!" or more realistically, "Er-er-ahh-err-errr!"...every 37 seconds.

Seriously? Did I just buy a house next to a rooster? Did I SERIOUSLY just move next door to a rooster? In the middle of the city? A ROOSTER?!!!!?

The answer? Yes I did. And he made it through the winter. This spring he is back with a vengeance! Like the phantom of the Opera, reeking havoc in the theatre, this piece of poultry roams the concrete plots of back "yard" mercilessly claiming his authority.

Maybe I should find a nice single hen to keep him company. Think they sell that on Craig's List?