The Chicken and the Rooster!

[Laurie, Fudge, and Vern]

This spring when we were checking out our local garden shop for plants and flowers to plant, I spied a 5 foot metal Rooster that I fell in love with and wanted to bring home.  It was right around Mother’s Day and my Birthday and when I asked the man the price and he told me how expensive it was, I told him to hold on because I was sure when I went inside and located John and described the gift I had picked out for myself, he would run right out and snatch it up for me.  “Yes, John, it is a 5 foot rooster made out of tin and painted many colors!”  Unfortunately, things did not go as planned and when I pointed out the 5 foot rooster to him, he burst out laughing.  I used the same method I have tried many times on my oldest daughter when I have spotted something in the store I want and tell her I will walk away and make myself scarce so she can surprise me with it later.  I have never actually gotten anything using this method, because usually as I am walking away, I will turn to find her following directly behind me.  Even when I say again,  “What part of that plan did you not understand?” all she ever says is, “mom, buy it yourself.”  Luckily, I can be persistent, but I can also be reasoned with on occasion and as John followed me to the car, he said we should mull it over for a few days and see if I came to my senses.  I even waved to the salesman on the way out and told him I was pretty sure my husband was “this close” to falling for that rooster, too, and I was sure we would be back.  I think he said, “No hurry.  It isn’t going anywhere.”

Don't laugh!  He is much prettier in person!

A few weeks went by and for the most part, I forgot all about my rooster, but then fate intervened and I had to go back to the garden store for miscellaneous items and there he was waiting for me.  It wasn’t like one of those commercials where the couples run towards each other in slow motion as they are reunited, but it was close and I knew that big guy was going home with me.  Upon closer inspection, I found a couple of dings and zings and so I went inside and asked if they would lower the price.  The saleslady all but ran to find the manager and I suspected the conversation went something like this, “there is a crazy woman out here who actually wants to buy that enormous rooster, but wants a discount.  Let’s unload that thing on this kook while we can.”  Pretty soon she came back with a smile on her face, maybe even suppressed laughter, and said 25% off and I said, “Sold!”

 

Next, she took it upon herself to announce over a store speaker for all to hear, “We need a stock man to meet a customer outside to load the extra large rooster into her car.”  The only thing she could have done to be less discreet was walk behind me shouting, “Follow me to see what this woman just bought.”  For some reason, I felt like I did when the Pharmacist asked me in front of a bunch of other customers, “What are these pills for?” and I had to let her and all the nearby eavesdroppers know that without them there was a good possibility that my husband would meet an unpleasant end when during my next mood swing he said something stupid like, “I don’t know how much longer I can take this menopause stuff.”  It seemed like both times customers stepped back and gave me my personal space.  The funny thing was it was the same man I had talked to on the first visit about buying the rooster who loaded it into my car. He was chuckling and I said, “I told you I would be back and I will give this guy a great home.”

Unloading the rooster when I got home proved to be easier said than done.  He had jagged sharp edges and was big and cumbersome.  Plus, I had two Labradoodle helpers that thought standing directly in my way to smell this new thing was a good idea. 

I wanted to have it in the perfect spot by the time John came home from work and if it hadn’t been so big, I thought about putting it in the garage in his parking space, but I was afraid he would A) not notice it and run over it or B) notice it and run over it.   Either way, I didn’t want to try and explain to an insurance adjuster that his car damage was due to my husband hitting a large, metal, rooster parked in his parking spot. 

 

Before I go any further, I would like to give the official definition of rooster found in Wikipedia to clear up any controversy regarding the latter part of my post.

 

“A rooster, also known as a cockerel, cock (from Old English coc) or chanticleer, is a male chicken (Gallus gallus).”

 

While I was waiting for John to arrive home and see our newest acquisition, I took several pictures of my new Rooster on my dumb phone and sent them to a friend.  I am sure you can figure out from the above definition what an immature 55-year-old woman might take to calling her new friend when sending the picture to an old friend and if you need some clues, it was not cockerel or chanticleer.  It didn’t take long for my friend to text back that she showed it around and now some other people wanted one, too. I can honestly say, I have had as much fun overusing that word in regards to my new rooster as I have had showing it off to visitors. I have asked John if he told the guys at work about his 5 foot “rooster”, asked him if he would mind moving his large “rooster” to the left of the shrub just a little, and asked him if the rooster looked a little cockeyed where we put him.   I also went on to tell him that cockamamie rooster warms the cockles of my heart every time I look at him and asked him if he wanted to celebrate the new arrival with a cocktail.  He played right along when he said no to the cocktail, but was thinking about coldcocking someone.  Over the years I have found that immaturity can go a long way in entertaining oneself even when it starts to wear thin on others.  

 

Surprisingly, Vern, who is afraid of many things, did not bat an eye at the extra large rooster. I think he sensed it came in peace.  The dogs and the rooster have managed to co-exist peacefully for some time now, but just the other day, I moved the rooster into the house thinking it would need to come in out of the elements for the winter months.  Unfortunately, he is not your ordinary knick-knack and as I looked around my house for where to put him, I realized he might be an outside rooster or at the very least, a “store in the garage,” lawn ornament.  I had no choice but to take him back outside and put him back in his original spot until further notice.  Unfortunately, I mistakenly placed him a little to close to Vern’s pass through and sure enough, Vern ran right into him and knocked him over. 

I guess I thought even Vern, our bull in the china shop, would notice an enormous rooster and make the necessary adjustments to avoid it, but I thought wrong.  Down the rooster went into the shrubbery and it scared Vern half to death. 

Did anyone see where the large rooster went??

What scared me was I did not think I would be able to extract the rooster from the shrubs now stuck up his tail feathers without the Jaws of Life.  I pulled and pushed and cursed and I could not get him upright.  Meanwhile, poor Vern had decided this once former friend was now his mortal enemy and gave him a wide berth when walking anywhere near his tipped over form in the bushes.  I really believe if I had said, “Cock-a-doodle-BOO,” to Vern on one of his surveillance walk bys, he would have cried out in fear.  Luckily, John came home and got the rooster back on his feet and in the proper place for Vern’s pass through to work more efficiently.   Vern looked at the rooster in his upright form and remembered he was an old friend, after all, and was no longer afraid of him and so there you have it, the end to another cock-and-bull story.

[F, Calla & Luca]

Doris, are you calling Laurie immature : )

[Doris, Knox & Flash]

I'm joining this late and am so glad to see that Ricki is back! We have missed you around here, Ricki!

Laurie, your rooster reminds me of a huge one that can be found outside a business nicknamed "concrete heaven." It is probably about 9 or 10 feet tall and stands close to the highway that the business is on and one that we travel on going to the Houston airport. I can't tell you how many times my son told me that he
needed it to put outside his house at Duke. "So where's the party?" "Just look for the house with the big 'rooster'!". Thank goodness that it was made of concrete and couldn't quite fit in our vehicle, much less in his carry-on as he flew back to school. Gotta love immaturity sometimes!! Loved your blog, as usual : )

[F, Calla & Luca]

Like that cock-a-doodle.

[Leslie and Halas]

If Vern tried to mate with the rooster, you would end up with a cock-a-doodle. Sure, they're both boys. But they've got bigger obstacles than that to overcome, considering one of them is made of metal, and the other one is made of fear.
Ricki, Halas did try to smother Barley again just last Monday, but I have been spared. Glad you are back!

[F, Calla & Luca]

You've had you share : )

[Ricki and Tara (doodle)]

What, no hokum?

[F, Calla & Luca]

Ricki, I'll let that pass due to my pleasure at your return.

[Ricki and Tara (doodle)]

I think the more she drinks the bigger her words get. Thanks for the translation!

[Ricki and Tara (doodle)]

Laurie, she knows when to retreat!

[Ricki and Tara (doodle)]

Hey, Leslie! I'm so glad to see that Halas didn't smother you while I was gone!!