The Rooster Story

My original blog was titled, “Whose Rooster is This?” And I realized I never actually explained the story behind that title.

So here it is. About a decade ago, I drove over to my parents house for a visit. That was my routine most Sunday afternoons. My brother, Matt, was still living there at the time.

I parked my car in front of the house. Matt was outside and we starting talking on the front lawn. Out of nowhere, a rooster just walks on by. Right across the lawn. Just as causal as ever. I should point out that my family lives in the city. In the suburbs. We don’t just have livestock roaming around all willynilly.

Me: Um, so what’s with the rooster?

Matt: I’ve never seen him before.

Me: You think he belongs to the neighbors?

Matt: I don’t know, maybe.

So we got our parents. They were just as dumbfounded as we were. We called animal control. Animal control said they would only come and get it, if it was caged. Which meant someone had to capture it. I was not going to get my face clawed or my eyes pecked out.

Eventually, our neighbor came out and asked about the rooster.

Neighbor: Whose rooster is that?

Me: I thought it was yours.

Neighbor: Really, Mia? Give me a little credit here.

Me:*laughing*  My bad.

The neighbor trapped it in a laundry basket and animal control came and got it.


That’s it. That’s the end of the story. I didn’t say it was a good story.



6 thoughts on “The Rooster Story

    • Not really a good story. But it did happen. That rooster was so chill though. He belonged to someone in the neighborhood, I’m sure of it. But no one claimed it because it’s illegal to have livestock at your residence.


      • It should be illegal to have a ROOSTER, anyway. I remember camping with Boy Scouts at a municipal park – someone nearby keeps a rooster. And someone’s just lucky it was always too cold to bother getting dressed and finding that infernal bird at 3:30 in the morning – because chicken soup for breakfast sounded REALLY good when he started crowing to the moonlight.


      • I’m not sure what the laws are here in Texas but there was one in our neighborhood up until recently. I used to hear him from my bedroom at 6am. Then I would hear him at 7am when I would put the garbage out. Then I would hear him at noon when I came home for lunch.


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