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It was pouring a couple of minutes ago. I was standing by my kitchen window watching as the chickens, roosters, turkeys, and geese ran for cover. I had no idea there would be such a frenzy over the rain. They were practically bumping into one another as they squawked and tried to take cover.
Not the ducks. A few of them continued to enjoy a swim in their little pond and others stood, heads held high as if they were sunbathing.
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The second day of my stay in my new apartment, I heard what sounded like a fight between a gaggle of geese—I believe a few geese are called a gaggle—don’t hold me to it. The smackdown occurred early in the morning. I thought that the geese had stopped in the vicinity for a visit. I was wrong.
It seems that the small house next door has a mini fowl farm on their property. Also on their property are about six dogs—three of them have a miniature Rottweiler look about them and bark at anyone trying to get a better look at the fowl.
This mini farm has ducks, turkeys, chickens, roosters, and geese—I think. Almost once a day I hear the roosters, and at times, the turkeys.
By the time the first of November rolls around, if I don’t continue to hear that familiar “gobble-gobble,” I am definitely going to be feeling some type of way.
D.T. Torres 