Day 193 – The Rooster and the Scabby Dog

Jungle isolation, Day 193.

I went out earlier to buy some water from the shop to find next door’s rooster cock-a-doodle-doing in my front yard. Somehow, he (and this time, unlike last night’s spider situation, I can be sure of gender as he was crowing like an Old Etonian) had fallen off their tin roof and into my space.

Spying me outside, the half-blind scabby dog I sometimes feed came rushing from over the road, tail wagging furiously and clearly hopeful for a repeat of last night’s tin of pilchards in tomato sauce.

Again, I can be reasonably sure that the dog is a bitch and by this I don’t mean she has a vicious or vindictive character. She’s actually quite pleasant except for the scabs and mange and lice and fleas.

This ‘chicken and dog’ situation was quite a quandary. I wanted to open the gate and shoo the rooster outside but at the same time, I knew if I did so the dog would be in like a shot.

It was like that logic puzzle with the wolf and the sheep and the boat and the river.

Were I Aesop, or George Orwell even, I could write some kind of fable about this, relating it to the human condition. If I were a technocratic elitist such as Mr Lee, I would happily watch them both starve and die, all the while chuckling and rubbing myself in a satisfying manner.

I am not Aesop, George Orwell or a technocratic elitist.

I’m Ron Gridcharts.

Despite my complete lack of local language ability, I went to my neighbours’ and managed to convey the situation via a combination of pointing at my house and doing my very best chicken impression (and I do have a degree in Drama so it was pretty impressive), using the techniques of strutting, scratching and flapping my bent arms so they somehow resembled the vestigial wings of a cockerel.

At first they must have thought it was some kind of traditional dance from England because the family and a few passers-by stopped to watch my farm fowl impression. At the end, a few clapped. The rest were filming it with their phones.

Finally, the father of the household understood the situation and accompanied me- not in doing a chicken dance- but just to my house where he shooed away the dog and grabbed the wayward bird, laughing.

Even though my avian impression was necessary, it has given me a thirst once more to tread the boards.

I may never play The Dane but I’d be quite good in panto (Mother Goose wouldn’t be too much of a stretch). Or a TED Talks. This could be my amusing anecdote bit.

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1 Comment

  1. Good video about ‘thought leaders’. I’ve been subjected to many of these talks, mainly at works kick off meetings. Call me a cynic, but most of it is bullshit with a few fairly useful comments sprinkled in.

    One recent one that really irked me was by the notable Zionist and Groucho Marx lookalike Robert Winston. The talk was supposedly about the advancement of science, but he managed to cleverly shoe-horn in a significant portion about anti-Semitism. Totally irrelevant but most of the audience lapped-up the subliminal brainwashing and gushed at the end about how great the talk was.

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