Sometimes it feels a little weird saying that I am a city girl when I have been living in a somewhat small city for most of my life. But it is true what they say: once a city girl, always a city girl. Well, not sure if anybody says that, but if you grew up in a big city, you understand what I mean. That is not to say that I don’t like where I live. On the contrary, I love it! It is on the coast – which is something very important to me, it is historic, there is always some type of art or sporting event going on, and tourism is at an all-time high. So I guess I can say that I live in a small city with a big city feel. Actually it had been feeling more like a big city than a small one for a while … until a little over a year ago, when we moved into our new place.
Five years ago, my husband and I decided to buy a lot on the water (river to be precise). We came across it while at a party at the developer’s house, and really liked the area, especially the view. It was quiet, surrounded by live oak trees, and the view of the river was stunning. It was also a good deal, so we bought it and three years later started construction. After 12 months, our house was, for the most part, finished. We fell in love with it from the moment we moved in. What I wasn’t counting on were the “country living” experiences I was about to have.
Four months after moving into the new house, I was making myself a sandwich during my lunch break and started hearing the sound of a rooster crowing – you know, that cock-a-doodle-do sound. I had no clue where it was coming from and started searching the house for it. I figured it was a toy that suddenly went off, because our alma matter’s mascot is a Gamecock and we have some Gamecock stuff around, but I couldn’t find anything. Then I heard it again … and again. So I decided to walk outside and to my surprise, there was a rooster on the vacant lot next to my house. It was the first time I saw a rooster in the area and thought it was a bit weird, but I assumed it came from somewhere nearby and went on about my business. Later that night, I was preparing dinner for my daughter while she danced around the house. As she danced her way towards the front door, I heard a small scream and thought she had fallen down. I asked if she was OK and she replied “yes, mommy, but there is a chicken on the porch”. I thought to myself “oh, no, she fell and hit her head”, but as I walked towards her, I realized she was telling the truth. The same rooster I had seen earlier that day was back, and this time it was on our front porch. I tried to shoo it away – nothing. I cracked the door open and let my dog peak outside and bark – nothing. My daughter grabbed her duck call toy thingy and started using it – nothing. I actually asked her to stop immediately because I was afraid ducks would come over and join the chicken. This was all happening and my husband, of course, was out of town for work. My luck! He laughed as I described the situation and I guess it was pretty funny. I finally gave up trying to get the rooster to leave and we all went to bed. In the morning, the front porch was covered in chicken poop and the rooster was nowhere to be found. Must have gone back to his coop, I thought. WRONG.
Later that night, the rooster came back. He also came back the night after that and the night after that. By the second night, my husband was back and we could not figure out how to get it to leave the premises. Poop was everywhere and the sound of that thing crowing was driving everyone crazy, especially our dog. At the end of the week, as we were getting ready to go on a road trip, the guys who were doing work around our backyard showed up. My husband approached one of them and said that there was a rooster roaming around, it was not ours, and jokingly added that they were welcome to take it if they wanted. By the time we got back from our trip, the rooster was gone – for good this time. We are not exactly sure why or how the it went away, but have a pretty good theory.
Don’t worry, my Country Living story does not end here. That rooster was not the only bird to pay an unwanted visit to our house and it was certainly not the only “wild” animal around. More to come on the next blog. Stay tuned.
Real, simple, funny 