My Rooster Is An Idiot


** “Stairway To Heaven”, performed by Rodrigo y Gabriela, followed by, The Black Crowes, “She Talks To Angels”, plays softly in the background….

I’d be pleased if you play along, and do the same. It will enhance the effect of my Story. **

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Day has dawned once again, or so my Rooster declares…

Switching on my headlamp that hangs from the ‘Backpacker’s Hammock’ that I’ve stretched over my bed -to hang mosquito netting and lights from, I point it toward the wall across my room where the battery clock also hangs, to discover what I already know is True:

“You’re an Idiot, Ryatt!”

“It’s 3 AM, Again! This is when people in New York get up for work- NOT West Coast Islandersyou Ass!

I’m officially changing your name to ‘New York’, ‘Boston’ or ‘Jersey’…. maybe even ‘E-Train’, if you don’t go back to sleep, this very minute!” I threaten, but only to myself, as no one in the room can hear me any longer, since the Day-mare Cacophony has begun….Again.

As a born-WordSmith, I’ve ‘collected’ words all my life, and I used to like that word –‘cacophony’…. before I realized I had my very own…. “’Cock-Cock-Phony’.  or maybe even- ‘Caca-Phony’.  Haven’t decided yet.  and I regress, yet again.  How incredibly fukkd up that word really is, when it is in the company of it’s friends.

So, for a little History, I must share one of the thousands of random muses that fleet thru my worn-out mind daily, and that is ‘the Ripley’s Believe-It-Or-Not’ fact that Ryatt’s Beloved & Belated Sire –MISTER- used to do the very same thing.

And this is where my mind begins to stray: Can Time Zones be Genetically Inherent in our Companion Animals? And how is this even possible? since,

ONE ) I don’t know that the 5 months before I ‘mysteriously’ found MISTER, alone in the forest –in the middle of nowhere!- inconveniently right at the hour of ‘coyote suppertime’, if he had ever travelled to New York, spent any time there, making it possible for him to have experienced ‘jet-lag’, of some chikkeny-kind,

TWO ) I know for a fact, that his sons, Ryatt & Gallifrey, NEVER have been to the East Coast, nor experienced ‘jet-lag’, at any time during our relations as Orphan Family members & typical uni-species roommates,

and finally, THREE ) Their species origin is JAPAN, so my mind still boggles around the bend, at how MISTER made it from THERE to HERE, in the middle of MY FOREST in the first place!! I checked his pockets pretty thoroughly, when I brought him home. He looked extremely bright-white, as if he took the time to sharpen up before he disembarked the steam ship that brought him for his Debut to America. And yet, he had no luggage, no boarding passes nor bus tickets in his aforementioned big, empty pockets…..

So I state my query once again: Where –in the name of all that I consider holy- do a father and son -one born & bred on his home continent, a half-day in the OPPOSITE DIRECTION of the time zone currently in question, and the other, being a Naturalized Son of West Coast North America –still, another 3 hours sunset-side of the same time zone under discussion- get their mutual and INCESSANT NEED to wake me at 3 AM sharp, every morn, regardless of how dark I keep their room, and how many times I win QP-Dolls from the Carnie that runs the pellet gun/ tin-rooster-target-knock-down game, that I play with balled up socks in my nightmares at 0300 hours every day?!?!?!

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