Sunday, August 17, 2008

Foghorn Leghorn

This little guy was our new neighbor for a while, and I was looking forward to blogging his story:

1) Next-door-neighbor Ron notices strange fluttering in alley

2) Ron surprised to see not a lost cat or squirrel, but a full-grown white rooster on the other end of said fluttering

3) Ron attempts, unsuccessfully, to catch stray rooster

4) Neighbor Moises steps in to help by tossing an empty cardboard box over rooster

5) Ron starts to take rooster home with dreams of a feathered housepet

6) Back-of-alley neighbor Caesar sees Ron with white rooster, and exclaims "Ohhh, I've wanted a rooster my entire life!"

7) Ron hands off rooster to Caesar, who makes a free-range home in his backyard

8) Rooster crows from daybreak to sunset, prompting a neighbor to say, "I think that rooster is confused."

9) Collective ire gives way to amusement, recognizing how much more pleasant it is to be awakened by a cockle-doodle-doo than by car alarms or honking horns

10) Rooster assumes neighborhood mascot status

Unfortunately, I can't blog that story so cheerfully anymore, because the rooster is suddenly MIA. I've already made my own private hierarchy of fates for our hapless beast of burden (cockfighting at the bottom, escape to a local farm at the pinnacle, a fine marinade somewhere in between). It's tough not to assume a bad lot.

For somebody who cursed that rooster's very existence at first, I sure do miss his bombastic racket. Be safe, feathered friend. It was nice knowing you.


tracy said...

Aw, Foghorn! I fear the fate may be another option: Rooster becomes fresh meal for urban predator. You'd be surprised what a raccoon can do...but I'm rooting for his new life on a farm with Babe the pig.

Diana Sudyka said...

Oh noes!!! Say it isn't so, Neighborhood Watch! God speed our little noisy, feathered friend.

psychlops said...


kkurtz said...

I recall in the late '80s, frequently waiting for the morning bus @ North & Paulina & hearing a rooster crowing from a nearby chop shop.
I was told then that having roosters in the city was illegal. I fear yours probably broke free of his cock fighting confines & made a dash for freedom, only to wind up in the proverbial pot. beware those who too eagerly claim to 'have wanted a rooster their entire life'.

Diana Sudyka said...

Growing up we had chickens. My parents told me they used to have a rooster, and he would cockle doodle doo every morning. One neighbor didn't take kindly to this and shot it one day. My parents never kept a rooster after that. This was in Schaumburg when it was a rural farming community. Hard to believe there was a pre-IKEA, eh?

leslie said...

what a great photo, the little guy singing his heart out!