There is a man who lives behind us, we call him Farmer Bob, who owns a few cows and occasionally has a sheep or some other random animal in his field as well. One day we noticed a new animal in Farmer Bob's field, a white rooster. We affectionately named him Rooster Cogburn.
At first it was kind of fun seeing that rooster wander around. He would cock-a-doodle-doo at the cows and chase away other birds.
Then one day, we were sitting down for dinner and there was Rooster Cogburn right at our sliding door watching us eat! After that, he started coming out of the fence anytime we were outside. One day he was right under our bedroom window doing his loud cock-a-doodle-doo at 5 a.m.! But the final straw was when he chased my poor Graham across the yard, pecking him in the buttocks several times. My kids started being too afraid to go in the backyard. After that it was war between me and Cogburn.
One day I saw Farmer Bob outside and decided to confront him. Here's part of our conversation:
Me: "We're having a little problem with your rooster."
Farmer Bob: "It's not my rooster, it's your rooster."
Me (thinking Bob is joking): "Umm, okay. Well, is there any way you could keep your rooster in your fence?"
Farmer Bob: "It's not my rooster, it's your rooster."
Me: "What are you talking about? I just have a normal yard and you have a field with animals. Why would you think he's my rooster?!"
Farmer Bob: "He was always in your yard, playing with your kids."
Me: "They weren't playing with him, they were running away from him!"
Farmer Bob and I determined someone had probably just dropped the bird off near Bob's field. This was wonderful news to me because now I could be rid of Rooster Cogburn!
I knew that rooster would be too hard to catch inside of Bob's fences and so I hatched up a plan. A few days later I lured the rooster out of the Bob's fence (using my children as bait of course -- Rooster Cogburn could never turn down an opportunity to chase my boys) and then called animal control once he was in my yard. Animal control turned out to be the local police. It took myself, three officers, a big net, Wonder bread, and more than an hour to finally catch ol' Rooster Cogburn!
My husband was actually very sad about the rooster's relocation to the animal shelter. Do I feel bad? A little. Would I catch and send him off again? Probably. Good luck with the rest of your life Rooster Cogburn!
| Rooster Cogburn watching us eat dinner (or is he plotting our demise?) |
