There’s a rooster that lives across the arroyo. There’s something a little off about him, though. Before you think I’m being mean, let me explain. It’s 7:24 pm as I write this, and he’s still crowing as heartily as if it were the crack of dawn.
He starts crowing at around 5:30 am, like roosters all around the world. But this rooster? He doesn’t stop. He keeps going, on average, once every 20 seconds or so. I know this ’cause – well – I timed him.
All summer and fall of last year, he did the same thing but I think he must have travelled somewhere for the winter because from November through April, I didn’t hear a peep out of him. As soon as spring came and started stretching, he got dressed and went back to work.
I have my suspicions about his boss. Whoever it is, they push him way too hard, making him work long hours. I know this because:
1 – although he tries to keep up the cock-a-doodle-do (after all, he’s an American rooster so he speaks American) it comes out like he’s on 3% battery life and after a few hours he invariably sounds like “kok–a–dr-dr–dr–dr”. He actually sounds angry. Then he stops as though he has to pull himself together.
2 – he goes down for a siesta every single day from about 12:45 pm to about 3:00pm. Just to rest up for his afternoon shift.
Since we’re on the topic of how American roosters talk– years ago, I learnt that to us humans, animals speak differently depending on the passport they hold.
Guyanese roosters holler, “kuk-ku-ru-ku”.
“Koke-ko-ko”, roosters say in Japan
German roosters? Apparently they crow “ki-ki-ree-ki” (or so I’m told!).
Russian roosters say “koo-ka-ree-koo”.
So which rooster is right?
The Russian, the German or the Japanese rooster?
Perhaps, though, it’s not a question of linguistics but one of politics. We humans are more often wrong than we are right. And at the end of a long work day, the rooster is always right!
3 Comments Add yours
I love this post! So cute! hahahaha
Blastid fowl cack wake up mankine juss when people tekking dey fuss tun.
Señor Castafiore. He bawling whole day. But I admire his perseverance to the grueling job.
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Holy Sweet Maryam!
I love this one. It’s so, so, cocky, so full of koo-koo-roo-koo things pulled ( no, stolen) from my memory box.
This rooster is MY kind of guy.
Crow until you burst. Tell the world who you are.
The roosters living in my memory box started their dawn chorus at 2:00 a.m. when the night was still in its blanket.
First the one at the end of the village. Oh wait! I might say in my wake- sleep state.
That one belongs to Uncle Robert.
Next one to go belonged to the fowl pen next to Uncle Robert’s.
Then the one in the next yard. And so on.
At last it was the turn of our rooster.
How sweet, how glad they all were to herald in a new day.
“Koo koo roo koo”.
I might lie in bed and listen and be able to tell which yard each one belonged to.
Then there would be silence as if they were all saying “ We going back to sleep now. Yall people get up and …..”
I would give anything now to be awakened by that dawn chorus.
Thank you Lissy-Tana
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