The SPCA raided my property last week.
Their probe followed closely on the heals of a police officer who paid us an unsolicited visit.
A neighbor complained of the Sombitch Rooster, who could not keep crowing to a minimum and has raised such a ruckus, we have to find him a new home, away from the Philadelphia area, and some less dense place like New Jersey.
Complaints were lodged by the same person. A 30-something White guy who recently married the young widow two houses away. He’s complained of the rooster as soon as he moved in, exerting his role as a new property owner, I guess. Until then, the rooster has been tolerated and actually appreciated by youngsters who never saw one up close. That includes the 10-year-old daughter of the complainant.
He owns two clean and shiny vehicles that he parks outside our homes. They’re real “lookers.” “Never went through a mechanical wash,” he told me about his Mustang when he was courting the widow. “Always hand-washed it.” he said like a proud father of a bright and shining child. He also owns the most expensive black beauty of a truck I’ve ever seen up close. Always looks like it’s just been waxed and simonized.
A young agent from the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals (SPCA) swept through the yard and made her way to the chicken coop (converted shed). The upper yard and shed passed her inspection, but she noted the winter carry-over of leaves and assorted gunk that accumulated on the concrete patio and walkway posed a health hazard to the chickens.
She also got a report of a man hitting the animals with a broom, she said. She told me this right after she saw me shooing away Sombitch Rooster who came straight for me, bypassing her and my son, Nicholas.
I was the broom culprit. She realized it was for self-defense when seeing me ward off the attacking rooster with a five-foot metal pole.
I could have argued that the leftover dirt and natural “mess” were but parts of Mother Nature, undisturbed by human hands the past six months. Might have pointed out all the nutrients, worms and other food-stuff had formed into a “composted” material good for the fowl.
But, I agreed that the place looked a mess. Nicholas and I cleaned it over the next several days, an hour or so each visit, until it was “suitable” for any neighbor who might feel his new property value has somehow been diminished by our fowl ways.
On her visit yesterday, Officer Kristina Machalette, approved our work and was greeted by our cat, Sundance. “Is this one of them?” she asked of one of our two cats, Sundance who was lying peacefully at the foot of a 2-foot black Buddha statue I keep in the yard. (Sundance is my “Buddha buddy” who often lies on my lap while I meditate.)
Her appearance and recognition of the Buddha could not have come at a better time. I had just told the SPCA agent how I let the yard go “wild” after studying Buddhism and “detaching” myself from many material things, including “manicuring” of our yard to “keep up with the Joneses.”
Something landed on her arm. The agent shook it off. It was a Monarch Butterfly that felt no threat from Officer Machalette. We both marvelled at the beauty of nature as she said goodbye. Her work at my place was done; her compassion for wayward animals continuing in what is often uncaring world.