This guy goes to a psychiatrist and says, “Doc, uh, my brother’s crazy; he thinks he’s a chicken.” And, uh, the doctor says, “Well, why don’t you turn him in?” The guy says, “I would, but I need the eggs.” – Alvy Singer in “Annie Hall”
Besides being a quasi-journalist, I am a Realtor. After one house I listed sold, the buyer and her agent were doing what’s known as “the final walk-through.” This is the last look a buyer takes of the property before closing to make sure the repairs that were supposed to be done in fact have been. It’s critical everything goes well.
So as they surveyed the beautiful, old, Spanish mission-style house near downtown, things on the checklist were working out to their satisfaction.
That’s when the rooster next door decided to crow.
Apparently, in the past few days, the neighbor next door went out and bought herself a rooster – not the normal, rooftop, weathervane kind, but the cockfighting, Fog Horn Leg Horn, crowing kind.
I learned a few things this week. You can have up to four hens in the city limits, but no roosters. I don’t know if there are exceptions to that, like if your rooster is shy, or a mute, or even headless, like the world famous “Mike” (www.miketheheadlesschicken.org).
None of that really mattered. I was just trying to get everyone to the closing table. And the last thing anyone wanted at the eleventh hour was a rooster who thought he was Big Ben.
We called the owner of the rooster, who said that if it was a problem she could relocate the bird to her mother’s farm in the northern part of the state, far from earshot of the buyer. We told her we thought it would be a good idea and “Thank you very much.”
Then on Sunday night, two days after closing but before possession had been transferred, the buyer’s agent stopped by the house to pick up the key. As she exchanged pleasantries with the owner, who was in the process of moving out, she turned to get in her car and heard that familiar and unpleasant sound of “cock-a-doodle-doo!”
Needless to say, I received a call shortly thereafter, and after listening to the agent’s plight, agreed to make another call to the rooster’s owner. That took place the next morning, and went very well I think, all things considered. She asked me if they were just concerned about the rooster crowing at night, and I told her I really thought they would prefer the rooster be gone. So she reassured me that it would be, and soon.
I know it’s hard to give up a pet, but being the good neighbor, that’s what she agreed to do. And so, as they say down on the farm – all’s well that ends well.
•••
I’m still not sure how Google pulled off Google Earth or when they came out and took the picture. I guess they have a big Google spaceship. Our house was taken in the summertime when our grass was green, which I appreciated.
Someone who doesn’t appreciate them so much is a 50-year old guy in France. When Google decided to photograph his house, it also happened to be the exact moment he had chosen to step outside and relieve himself. Google took the shot and posted the photo on their site. The man is suing. He agrees that his face is blurred out, but says he’s still the laughingstock of his village.
Jay Edwards is editor-in-chief of the Hamilton County Herald and an award-winning columnist. Contact him at jedwards@dailydata.com.