I swear those roosters have a death wish! C.S. parks himself under my window at the crack of dawn every morning and pretends to be a song bird. He ‘sings’ until all the hens have coming running. Then the girls sway to his dreamy Elvis voice with their eyes closed. I on the other hand, hear fingernails going down a chalk board. The more he screeches, the more I convince myself that he needs to live up to his name…C.S…short for chicken soup. Earley this morning, (actually  it was still dark), TWO roosters were standing under my window giving a concert! I was so mad that I threw  back the curtains to show them my shaking, threatening fist! Nobody cared, they didn’t even look up. Elvis and Bing were crooning to 15 love struck hens, two ducks and a turkey. I swear if they had lighters, they would’ve  been lit! I shook my head in defeat, started to close the curtain when I saw the pig come around the corner. She plopped herself behind the swaying mesmerized birds, closed her eyes and smiled! Sheesh…I give up.