The Quiet

Have you ever owned a clock that chimed? Or a coo coo clock? You know how you sorta get use to the noise? After awhile, you stop hearing the chimes or the ticking? It just sorta blends into the background? You know it's there and sometimes you hear it, but for the most part it is just part of the soundtrack that makes up the house. But, if you have to take the clock in to get fixed and that noise stops, you miss it almost instantly and the house seems strangely quiet?

That's how our ranch is without our rooster. Quiet. Annoyingly still.

The silly little one-off that was part of our crew is missing and his absence is disturbing my calm. It wasn't a unique sight to see the five of us humans going about our chores outside only to be stalked around by a midget rooster. JL would wash the boat - Eckerd was near pretending to peck around for bugs. Me and the kids would be playing outside - Eck would be there kicking up mulch and cooing happily over whatever he found.

Can you mourn a rooster? I guess so. If he's become part of the family. Which, no doubt, ours clearly was.