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.