Rooster Update

Last Saturday after finding out where the Rooster lived, I ran back home to get my camera. Then went to Shoppers to get some film. By 8:30, I was ready to take some pictures of the guy to officially record his presence at the Forks of the Thames on the edge of downtown London.

What you see above is just one of several examples of definitive proof of the rooster's existance in my neighbourhood. Follow the arrow, sqint real hard and you can see a smidge of the white feathers which ring his neck and that dot of red is the tip of the crown on the top of his head. Or plumage. Whatever it's called.

And if that's not enough, I've got half a roll of film of photos just like that.

As you can clearly see, his 'roost' is up in a tree about seven feet off the ground. Contrary to popular belief, he does not live in a sock where he spends most of his time reading books.

What you can't see in the photo is that at the base of that tree is a dish of corn and bird-seed that someone had been filling daily.

I saw him again on a dog-walk a few days later on Wednesday morning. It was about 9 o'clock. He had finished his cock-a-doodle-doing for the day and was down on the ground at the base of the tree. The dish of food was gone.

I got a good look at him this time. He wasn't as scrawny as I had thought when I first saw him on the weekend. Apparently he's been well-fed.

And what I had thought was just a fringe of white feathers around his shoulders was much more. They covered the whole upper-third of his body. Remember that 'Ram-Fed & Loaded' column about City Hall that used to be in Scene magazine? Occassionally they would run a a by-line photo which showed the writer with his long lion's mane of white hair released from the constraints of being in a pony-tail. The rooster kinda looked like that guy. Not shy or easily intimidated either. Strutting around proud as a peacock.

And after being out there alone for two months, he also had a severe case of blue balls.

The next morning I went by there again with the idea of bringing some bird-seed down if his food-dish hadn't been replaced. No sign of the dish or the rooster. But one of those guys who collect cast-off bottles and cans told me that the afternoon before, the people who had been feeding it were down there with a trap and they had a farmer willing to take him in.

And I haven't seen or heard him since.

It's a relief to know that he's gone to a good home and won't be here freezing to death along the river-bank when winter finally gets here in a two or three months, but I'll miss the guy. It was nice having him around for the summer. In fact, I might just buy me one of them roosters and set up a coop and harem for him in my backyard. Every neighbourhood should have at least one. It helps kick off the day.

... as for the individual who originally dropped the rooster off in the middle of the city along with a bunch of chickens, well - I have a theory about that. Thought #1 - he is a cruel scum-sucking low-life hick without a brain in his head to piss in.

And Thought #2 - after decades of farmers having to take in stray dogs and kittens because some irresponsible city-dwelling cretins got bored of them and just dumped them off out in the country near the first farm-house they saw - well, let's just say that country-folk are getting even by dropping off a rooster in the city - where people normally don't even get out of bed until 9 a.m.

It's called 'payback.'

And I think there might be some merit to that theory. This morning, walking through the parkland at the end of my street, the dog and I came across a pig and a goat running loose. And even though we were smart enough to avoid it, grazing around the Art Gallery was a real angry-looking bull.