Mugged by a Rooster

Our landlords are getting back tonight after a week away. Their idea about how to tend to the dogs during a Hawaii vacation (three pound large dogs plus Sadie their son’s pound terrier) is to leave a 50-lb bag of food, opened, outside along with gallons and gallons of water. We’re to check them every so often, make sure there are four, and maybe refill the water containers.

Don Gallo the feral bantam rooster has grown used to his morning walnuts cracked by the landlord outside their front door. (The entryway’s a MESS.) He’s been crowing more and more insistently all week.

I went out to get the paper yesterday morning. He followed me—stalked would be a more appropriate verb—all the way there and back, getting ready to pounce in some roosterish attempt to wrest walnuts from my person. We had a face-off; I had a large box and the newspaper; he wasn’t fazed off at all. He dances on his toes and scrapes his wings on the ground noisily in threat. I escaped with my life, locking the door behind me.

Reminds me of when Bsag was mugged by a duck.

[Addendum, Feb. 4th:: Bingo one of the large pound dogs showed up last night barking. We put him in with the others. This morning we discovered a half-gnawed jackrabbit paw outside our front door. Bingo would be hard pressed to catch one of these hares but someone else might have and he wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth…]