"Good fences make good neighbors." -Robert Frost
Day 54, 2:31 A.M.: I still find the nearly ceaseless cacophony grating. Let me correct that, it's not nearly ceaseless. The generous number of silences are smartly timed to put a point on the often-frequent crowing, which leads me to put a question to you: who buys a rooster?
As you enumerate the list of candidates for rooster ownership, let me give you three groups of people who should never own roosters: 1) people who live next door to me, 2) people who live within earshot of another rooster, 3) people who live next door to my housemates (see number one).
Before we go any further, let's dispel some romantic notions of roosters that you may have. For instance, the idea that roosters only crow at sunrise. False. A fact unknown to most people, roosters are ardent perfectionists. In order to perform exactly as they desire for that key sunrise-crow, they assiduously practice throughout the day. As a side note, it may be that since we live in a city filled with inhabitants from a great number of the world's countries, this particular rooster is announcing sunrises as they occur in various countries. So, when the rooster crows at 9:30 in the evening, it's to assist any Fijians who may have recently moved to the neighborhood. How considerate.
Another misconception is that roosters are useful animals, as they are inexpensive to keep and provide the key material needed for feather dusters. This is a sophism, surreptitiously propagated by the multi-billion dollar feed industry to boost sales of under performing types of corn. Two large costs to owning roosters that immediately come to mind are lack of sleep and higher fuel costs, as you are constantly leaving the house to avoid the repercussions of your bad choices.
This brings me to my next question: what have we done to upset our neighbors this much? The only thing that comes to mind is that once in November it happened to rain for twenty minutes. In my elation, I may have sat on top of our shared wall to better enjoy the mild downpour. Our neighbor came home to see me sitting outside, and we had a seemingly pleasant chat. Little did I know that, offended by my cordiality, he would stew during the whole of December until arriving at this sinister plan for revenge. Speaking of such, if you have a good recipe for cockscomb soup, send it my way, as I may be in need of it shortly.
