During the recent unprecedented flash flood on Madison Creek, most of my grandson, Tanner's, chickens perished. Five out of the twenty-five he had, plus his lone rooster survived. The rooster was washed about a quarter of a mile downstream and took up residence in an old, abandoned house across the creek from where I live.
     Several nights ago, my wife, Janet, and I thought we had gone to bed for a good night's rest; however, we were sadly mistaken. Somehow that rooster made his way across Madison Creek and onto my property. He crowed throughout most of the night so that neither Janet nor I got much sleep at all. He did take leave from crowing an hour or so before daybreak, allowing us to get a few winks of sleep. But once daybreak came, he commenced crowing and continued to do it unceasingly throughout the day. 
     If either of us opened the door to check on him, he leaned his body over so as to catch a peek inside. In fact, he tried to come inside the house several times. When the door was closed, he pecked continuously at the brass kick plate on the bottom of the door. I guess he did it because he could see his gorgeous reflection, causing him to think there was another rooster inside the door he might have to fight. This plus other escapades took place throughout the day. 
     Once Tanner came home from work, Janet called him and told him he simply had to come down and get his handsome red rooster. Soon Tanner arrived on his golf cart, caught the fellow with ease, and tucked him underneath his left arm. Both Tanner and rooster boarded the golf cart then quickly vacated the premises. 
     We had a peaceful night, but yesterday morning, that rooster was back, crowing and pecking at the brass plate on the door. Once the grass dried off, I got my riding mower out and commenced to mow my yard. If anyone even thinks that rooster was afraid of my mower, you are sadly mistaken. He followed me around just as though he wanted to get on and take a ride. The way he acted, I thought maybe he wanted me to take him to the little town across the hill in front of my house. But that didn't happen. 
     By the end of the day, Janet coaxed him to our car by dropping pieces of bread along the way. Once she got to the car, she opened the door and got inside. I opened the door on the other side. Then Janet threw a few pieces of bread on the floor opposite from her. The rooster jumped inside after the bread. I closed the door, then went around and got in the driver's seat. Off we went up the road to take him home.  
     Today we were gone for most of the day. Before coming home, we did some grocery shopping at Walmart. When we got home, I pulled in the driveway, and there was that rooster in the side yard. I opened the door to get out, and he came around to greet me. Then I went around to open the trunk. The rooster followed. Once the trunk was open, the watermelon we had purchased at Walmart fell out of the car and rolled down the driveway. The rooster ran after it like he was chasing a basketball so he could do a lay-up. Once the watermelon rolled to the place where the driveway and road meet, the watermelon burst. Needless to say, the rooster had his fill. 
     For some reason that red rooster seems insistent on befriending me. But I have no idea why. I’ve tried time and again to arrange for him to leave, but he keeps coming back. He leaves little messes here and there, and I have to spray them away with the water hose. But that’s his nature. He doesn’t know any different. As aggravating as he’s been, that red rooster has caused us to laugh time after time. And with all that’s wrong in today’s world, for some reason that red rooster has stopped by to pay us a friendly visit and add unforeseen joy to our lives.  Just as I finished writing this paragraph, he crowed. Janet and I looked at one another and laughed, and I had a sudden chill. 
     Presently, he is quietly roosting on our front porch. I can imagine we will be hearing some crowing in about five hours or so—maybe even sooner than that. 

©️Copyright 2021 By David Lee Thompson