Photo by Corey Leopold
I have been raised to respect animals and to respect life in all shapes and forms they come in. My father was forever rescuing handicapped animals when I was growing up. He brought home an escaped turtle he found on the side of the road one night which lived in our aquarium until it died. Another day he found a bird that had broken its wing and so like the good samaritan that he is, he took it home to nurse it back to health until it was fit enough to fly freely. He had even rescued this maltese terrier that was a feral looking thing and although cute, was obviously abandoned by its previous owners for its viciousness and readiness to attack. My father kept this dog, as mean as it was, for at least a decade until it ran away never to be found again.
However, sleeping in the tent over the last few weeks, I have come close to despising a certain rooster I have now dubbed Rudey as his morning wake up calls at 1am or 2am in the morning would definitely be considered rude in any sane person’s books. When I meet this rooster, who cock-a-doodle-doos to the beat of his own drum at the most inoppportune times of the morning, I will be sure to clobber it over the head and skin it alive. And I have never been prone to animal violence – but this could be the first.
Take for instance, last night. After several hours sleep, I woke up and thought I had gotten up just before the crack of dawn. I looked at Ben’s glow-in-the-dark hands on his wristwatch – it was only 1.15am in the morning! It took me an hour to get back to sleep.
So Rudey the Rooster is going down. He’ll make a nice little Red Rooster feast when I get my hands on him!