When Your Rooster Crows at the Break of Dawn

This title of this is a quote from one of my all time favorite songs -- Dylan's "Don't think Twice" which is sung fabulously by my friend Barb Jungr -- get all of her albums if you don't have them yet (www.barbjungr.com). The reason for the blog title will become clear shortly.

I know I'm not a real farmer....I have two goats, a few chickens (sell the eggs) and 3.6 acres, almost 3 of which are plantable. But I'm a boy from Brooklyn (at my age, some boy!) and am not one to rise with the sun. Neither is Cyrano, our Portuguese Water Dog who will stay asleep on his or our bed long after I've gotten up, showered, dressed and started my day. My preferred alarm-set time is between 8 and 9am, luckily I can usually stay in bed that late. NOT SO THIS MORNING. This morning, the phone rang at about 5:30am that's FIVE-FREAKIN-THIRTY-A-FREAKIN-M. It was the security company that monitors the alarm system at the museum where I work. I live closest, so I'm the first they call. I drag my sorry ass that didn't get into bed until about one the night before into some clothes and stumble in the pitch darkness to haul that sorry ass into the car to drive the 1.2 miles to the museum. Did I mention it's November? Did i meantion HOW DAMNED COLD it was?

Of course, it was not a burglar, merely a fault in the fire alarm, so i deactivated it, reactivated it, and had a brief chat with the friendly Town of Deerpark police officer who got there just before I did. He of course was up, dressed and at work when HE got the call to check things out. We talked local town politics for a few minutes and home I slogged to shrug off my clothes and curl back under the down comforter.

As for the title of this blog: I'm not the only one in near proximity who has roosters. I have five right now -- all beautiful, some nasty, some timid, but all obviously well trained by me. I say this because as I was walking to my car in the 5:40am darkness I could hear from the neighbor's yard the familiar, raucous ERR-er-er-er-ERRRRRR this is the call of the cock. From not too far away came the response: a riotous ERR-er-er-er-ERRRRR. What I noted, and have explained to a few non-fowl-owning neighbors was that none of the cacophony was coming from my barn. My roosters, keep hours like I do and were fast asleep. My roosters are sensible birds, and of a class not to mingle with lesser birds who feel they have to get up before the sun even. Now if only I could get them to kill a fox or two!