Rocky 2 (A Sly Rooster)
Posted: Sunday, September 06, 2009
by Chris Cole
George Cole
"Listen, we are not splitting atoms here!" I yelled to no-one in particular. After three days of not sleeping I had to remind myself of my goal, or should I say my crusade. I simply have to eradicate the rooster preferably in a slow and painful fashion. I decided it had to be a slow thing, kind of the way arsenic builds up to a painful death from an unhappy spouse. I had grown weary of the rooster's presumptuous attitude and his immutable crowing. Rocky the Rooster was impeding my road to salvation with his incessant cock-a-doodle-do's.
I found that Rocky was quite skilled in acoustics and sound-wave pattern-deduction. I believe he went through extensive banty training in this area. Many days (and some nights), I watched in utter amazement one day as he goose-stepped (with Nazi-like fervor) to my u-shaped courtyard and let loose with a horrendous jubilation of cackling. Rocky knew the sound-waves would reverberate (through my head) off the walls and to the other fowl five miles down the hill. This all ended in a great cacophony cock-a-doodle-di-dooos at 3am, 3:30am, 4am, 4:15am, 4:30am, etc
As I stretch the already tight rubber band around the can of nails and tree limb, I pontificate on what really comes first, the chicken, the egg, or a demonic rooster. I remind myself that the evil spirits from Rocky are trying to distract me and I go back to my delicate task of completing my mechanized rooster ambush. I balance the nail trap with the last ingredient; the oh-so-important banana.
If my calculations are correct, Rocky will start his "chicken-pecking" around 0730 hrs because he needs to eat and have plenty of energy to launch into his insane barnyard banter but, when he pecks this "special banana", his feathers and beak will be literally nailed to the garage. Oh I can't wait! Such joy over the simple pleasures of life!
I waited in exhaustive anticipation while humming the vintage Coca-Cola melody and I noticed Rocky was not goose-stepping, but was actually waddling. He seemed to be limping. I was flooded with many emotions; I wanted Rocky "de-beaked" by MY trap and ingenuity and by nothing else! Then there was this fleeting sense of compassion and sensitivity and I regained my composure and thought, "NO SYMPATHY FOR A ROOSTER! Especially one that does not let me sleep! NO WAY ! "
Several days passed after I dismantled my Rocky-trap, and Rocky's health continued to decline. He stopped all of his crowing and cocky mannerisms and had difficulty walking all together. The other rooster (Apollo) was pecking him and I actually saved Rocky a few times by chasing Apollo away. Rocky was put down a few days after this. He was buried beneath the tree he used to roost in.
After a couple of weeks of decent sleep, I found myself missing Rocky more and more. That is when I approached my cousin who just happens to raise fowl (convenient and ironic, huh?). She gave Rocky's owner a four-month old Plymouth Rock hen and rooster. (Thanks to Rocky, I became quite adept at studying and identifying fowl).
The new rooster does not crow nearly as loud as Rocky, and is way friendlier. The hen does not let the rooster get out of her sight and is always close by. My girlfriend named the chicken couple Romeo and Juliet, but I think you will know them as..
Mr. T. and Ivan (Drago)!
George "Chris" Cole experienced life as a law enforcement officer with a tour of duty lasting over ten years in law enforcement. He is the survivor of two marriages, and continues to meet new people that provide inspiration for many of his articles and short stories. Many of his articles have appeared in national and local publications.
In 2008, Chris abandoned West Texas and its' "Wal-Mart Trees" (Mesquite bushes that grow plastic bags) to move to the green pastures and real trees of Fredericksburg, Texas. Chris continues to work and hone his writing skills while breathing the fresh air of the hill country.
Mr. Cole can be contacted at kriskohl333@gmail.com.
Chris Cole
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Chris Cole
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Chris Cole
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In 2008, Chris abandoned West Texas and its' "Wal-Mart Trees" (Mesquite bushes that grow plastic bags) to move to the green pastures and real trees of Fredericksburg, Texas. Chris continues to work and hone his writing skills while breathing the fresh air of the hill country.
Mr. Cole can be contacted at kriskohl333@gmail.com.
Chris Cole
SearchWarp.com
Featured Author!
Chris Cole
SearchWarp.com
Author!
Chris Cole
SearchWarp.com
Top 100 Author!
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