Cock-a-doodle -- .Oh, Shut Up!

Let me preface this essay with a few admissions. First, I do not own a gun, have no plans to purchase a weapon, bear little or no malice toward my fellow man, and cannot conceive of killing any living creature. I have far fewer issues with the killing of bugs and cockroaches but I really assign the dispatch of truly ugly creatures to my wife! I find hunting for sport to be not my "cup of tea", as it were; I am perfectly content in munching on a very rare steak as long as I am able to accept that the meat is not from cattle, pig, lamb or chicken but comes from a plastic covered tray at the supermarket.

If this reeks of hypocrisy, so be it. I have developed my inconsistent points of view over the past 75 years and am not about to change now.

We live in what was a completely rural unincorporated part of Hillsborough County, Florida. We have occupied a geodesic dome home, about which I have written previously, for nearly 40 years, observing the neighborhood becoming more and more urban-like. Lutz still retains much of its natural character. We have ritzy developments and mobile homes in close proximity and traffic that somewhat overburdens our roads; on the whole, however, we all get along and allow each family to pursue its individual dream.

Into this bucolic setting, a bunch of damn roosters!

One of our neighbors has introduced a flock of chickens into our neighborhood. We have no idea why, perhaps to obtain the freshest source of eggs, perhaps for a crock pot. One thing about chickens: they generate a substantial amount of chicken-poop. According to a University of Missouri study on chicken-poop (and you thought all college kids worried about was beer), a flock of three chickens will generate about 5.5 pounds per week. If the birds were properly potty trained, it would not be that messy. However, assume that the birds have unrestricted rights to wander the neighborhood; sidewalks, driveways and my wife's car get quite messed up.

Chickens are not that big a problem however. Their quiet "cluck-cluck" will not disturb a sleeping person and, except for the aforementioned poop, are really not problems.

In a humane, I concede, effort to bring a domestic and satisfying life to the chickens, our neighbor has introduced -- . Roosters! In fact, roosters are not necessary for a hen to produce eggs; the only real consequence of having a rooster around is to produce fertile eggs, a necessary part of a commercial egg farm but not desirable if the intent is to have bacon and eggs in the morning!

Whereas urban chickens are becoming more and more prevalent, producing eggs and stuff, and an occasional soup, there is no reasonable rational for keeping a rooster, or worse, two of the creatures unless they are part of a commercial enterprise, in a permitted commercial zone far from people who want to sleep.

Last year, the City of Los Angles passed an ordinance, permitting to allow only one rooster per property unless such birds are part of a "permitted and licensed commercial, agricultural or industrial business" -- and on a street with the proper zoning. For my money, that's one too many.

Our neighborhood is cursed. There are two roosters, roaming the yards and streets, somehow ending on our property immediately below our open bedroom windows. Folklore asserts that roosters utter their raucous cry in order to greet the dawn. Nonsense. "Our" roosters do their thing every twenty minutes or so, day and night!

In the middle of the night, they scream right outside our window. Then a few minutes later, they can be heard further away and then, still further. They are now someone else's problem! One burrows under sheet and blanket, starting to doze... guess who's back, in full volume and pitch?

This morning, Joan and a rooster had a confrontation. Joan saw one of the beasts in our yard. She promptly threw sticks and stones at the bird but failed to break any bones. The rooster did, however, decide that the other side of the road was a safer place to be. On the way over, the rooster was nearly struck by a truck. It made its way without incident but, perhaps, just perhaps, it learned its lesson.

Probably not and at 3:00 o'clock in the morning, we'll continue to be awakened by one of the roosters.

Perhaps we'll import a few cats?