Roosters? Really?

In The Daily Drool on December 22, 2009 at 1:37 pm

Deep in the land of slumbering giants, where snowflakes evolve into little birds and old lovers come back to haunt with sweet-nothings and dangerous eyes, I heard the distinct shriek of a waking rooster.

“Get up!  Get up!  The Sun is here!”

Nature’s alarm clock was calling all to action, and I stood at attention, the sound pulling the snowflakes away and tugging his inappropriate paw from mine…  swirling in and out of what was real and what was sleep, only to hear it again.

“Cock-a-doodle-doo, motherfuckers!”

My brain returned (my body still riding Nyquil’s magic train)  Something seemed very, very strange.  As though I had become aware of the dream suddenly and was watching it with conscious eyes… only my eyes weren’t yet open and I wasn’t dreaming.

“WTF?”  was my first waking thought  (The brain too sleepy to bother with whole words)  “Is that… a rooster?  In my alley?”

The thought seemed ridiculous, insane… too far from possibility to worry about, yet there it rang again, loud and clear.  And suddenly I opened my eyes, alarmed by Midnite’s sudden departure from my bed at his fresh rallying cry- she’s a little detective that one.  And she went in search of a better vantage point.

I hauled myself to the window, looking out on the morning alley, and saw a horse trailer parked… “Aha!” I thought.

And then “No, wait, horse trailers are for horses… It’s weird that it’s there, but it doesn’t explain the-”

“I said, ‘COCKADOODLEDOOOOOOOO’ you sleepy bitches!”

Had it walked into my room at that moment I might have wrapped my sleepy little paws around it’s arrogant little neck.

But it didn’t, and I couldn’t see it, and really, that Nyquil wasn’t done with me just yet…

And that’s when I decided that whichever insane neighbor had adopted a feathered friend made no difference.  I was NOT going to follow the thing’s advice.  So I rolled over and went back to sleep, ignoring his subsequent calls.

But if it happens tomorrow, I’m going to have to do some investigating of my own.  I mean, I didn’t move to LA to be waken up by suburban fowl.


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