Chicago Rooster Number Two

Rooster Number 2Look closely. Cole would have gotten a better picture outside the car, but he said the honking behind us and yelling discouraged him. He’s cute tho, isn’t he? The rooster, not Cole.

It’s legal to raise (I’m pretty sure you don’t rear them) chickens, both hens and roosters, in Chicago. Hens are more popular because they don’t crow, and you don’t need roosters for eggs. (Putting it delicately, chickens can only be raised for the eggs or as pets.) I recently learned that niece Erika has two chickens named Nancy Pelosi and Madeline Albright. I hope to meet Nancy and Maddy someday. However, lest you think the purpose of this post is to tell you I have lost my mind and brought chickens home to roost, you’d be wrong. No. I am perfectly happy buying cage-free organic eggs. Perfectly happy. Having something else to tend to or pick up after is so low on my priority list, it doesn’t exist. Besides, my teen is adverse to claw-footed birds. I learned this when were traversing the plazas in Venice and every time a pigeon swooped in, he swooped behind me.

My sweet mother tells a very funny story about being on business trip with my dear dad in Paris. Dressed to IBM perfection, His Crabbiness stalked out the hotel door, followed by my sweet mother, whose patience was quickly fading at his need to control everybody and everything. As they exited the hotel and entered the plaza, a pigeon flew over my mom and rained poop on my dad’s impeccable suit jacket. (Bonjour, Mr. IBM.) Other things happened to my mother, but a bird would never dream of pooping on her. It just wouldn’t. My mother may not have laughed at the moment, but I can assure you that the moment my dad went to change, she was beating on herself and the doorman. I digress.

In any case, I don’t want to own chickens. I wouldn’t mind owning one rooster, though. And this is where my post gets riveting.

A few years ago, I wrote about an encounter Cole and I had with a rooster that was hanging out by the neighborhood cemetery. I tried to coax it to me and to coax Cole to grab it, but neither of them cooperated and so I left it with some water and hoped for the best.

Fast-forward to last week. On Good Friday, Cole and  I were out running an errand when, directly in front of us, a bewildered rooster was trying to navigate traffic. We were on a feeder road that ran parallel with the expressway, so I threw on my brakes and frantically punched my emergency lights. Another car in other lane came to a screeching halt beside me, and together we were able to hold traffic, despite the fact that some morons were honking madly behind us, informing us that saving a rooster wasn’t on their to-do list. Appropriately, I gave them the bird. We shepherded the rooster to the other side of the road and away from traffic. I’m certain, he safely made it back to his coup and is cockadoodledoo happily.

As we drove off, Cole informed me that his dearly departed dad’s Chinese symbol was the rooster. I did not know (or had forgotten) this bit of trivia. While writing this post, I Googled rooster and learned that it’s also a good luck symbol. Very interesting. Next, I check the date of our last rooster sighting. April 22, 2011 (Good Friday). Odd isn’t it that Cole and I would meet and rescue two different roosters in April on Good Friday? Once in 2011 and once in 2014. Trust me, roosters aren’t just running rampant in Chicago neighborhoods, despite the fact that people can own them. If number three shows up I’m bringing it home and asking it a few questions. We’ll take the luck, tho!

Odd Loves Company,

15 thoughts on “Chicago Rooster Number Two

  1. Birds seem to loom large in your family. At least you are prepared for that 3rd rooster citing if/when it occurs.

    • I am prepared and your right about birds. Birds hate me–Topping the list would be Solstice the bird I have rescued and have cared for over the last 7 long years, but they do tend to show up in my life all the time. I’m not sure how roosters feel about me which is the reason I have not reached out and grabbed one despite the fact that my Mom assures me they are mild mannered. We have a history with a goose–that bit me. Perhaps it is all rooted in being the daughter of an avid auduboner . . .

  2. Certainly an odd coincidence. A rooster is a good bird but I wouldn’t want to just grab one because you know they could probably give you a foul bite. I’ve never met a rooster up close and personal and I’ve never considered owning chickens. Seems like a lot of work.
    I’m with Cole not fond of pigeons. Although I did meet a carrier pigeon with an interesting history.

  3. I’ve never met even one rooster unless you count the ones at zoo. I wouldn’t think they would make good pets in the city unless all your neighbors are early risers. I’m glad you saved the poor guy tho.
    Good plan to have a conversation with the 3rd rooster you encounter because frankly I do find it Odd in an interesting sort of way.

    • I guess they aren’t all noisy but I’m not sure how you find that bit of information out in advance.
      When #3 shows up we are going to have a talk!

  4. A few years ago, my sister’s neighbor bought some of those “fancy” chickens that lay colored eggs (by which I mean green, blue, pink, etc.). When the birds escaped onto Sis’s property, they gave her a fright by suddenly springing up from beneath her car (she’s not a bird-lover, either). To apologize, her neighbor brought her some of the eggs, but she was afraid to eat them. Long story short, I don’t think chickens belong in city neighborhoods.

    Getting back to your encounter with the rooster, how odd. Perhaps Joe was trying to tell you something? He did have a good sense of humor, right?

    I got a good chuckle over your story about your dad and the pigeon — sounds so much like my Domer that I could picture the entire scene!!

    • Funny story. Your poor sister. Colored eggs taste pretty much like any other egg but they do look a little Odd. I found it interesting that so many people own chickens in the city and it was perfectly okay as long as they were not noisy. It has to be more work that it’s worth.
      It is odd and it could be a sign from Joe but he wasn’t all that fond of birds either. All though he was often cock sure.
      When someone is acting “high and mighty” the bird story does resonate with you–It’s an awful thing to have happen but still…

  5. Hmmm – that *is* an odd bird – hanging around on Lower Wacker!
    Those honkers and yellers behind you on Friday should try driving in the suburbs in the summer – people out here actually stop and wait for the Canada geese that are *still on the curb* to decide whether or not to cross the road!

    Happy Spring Chickens from “The Pumpkin Lady”!

    • Not even lower Wacker—Cicero around Montrose–Lawrence.
      I’m not sure we could have held off the honkers if the rooster had been undecided glad he was willing to be usher to the other side of he road.

  6. I loved this line: “My mother may not have laughed at the moment…”. I was in Paris on my honeymoon trip with my ex. Same thing happened. He was wearing jeans and a white pocket T-shirt. The bird’s aim was impeccable – right in the pocket! Well, your mother must be a saint if she chose not to laugh at the moment. Me, I’m no saint. I howled, I cried, I laughed so hard. I had to spend the rest of the trip apologizing – at least, until the snake incident, which required even more apologetic apologies, but that’s a story for another day. Suffice to say he is my ex – never did learn to laugh at himself. A pity.

    • Well, my Mom had to spend 10 more days on the road with my dad which is why she could probably contained herself. I would have (and often did in similar situations) laugh myself silly. My dad has a sense of humor but it’s very different than my Moms and mine and fortunately Cole’s. Not laughing at yourself does make life harder all the way around! Especially in our family cause S*it happens all the time. The snake?

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