With all the terrible stuff happening overseas, Syria, etcetera, engulfing the media, back here on home turf, something is dropping below the radar.
In the little semi-rural hamlet of Bellingen, two feral roosters are running wild, scratching and crowing in the wee hours each morning.
Community members are traumatised and have approached their green council who seem powerless to confront this developing dilemma and don't want blood on their hands. Perhaps the armed forces, but something must be done, before they start breeding with those two promiscuous hens, also running loose.
There are already over 20 roosters on standby, in reserve at the Bellingen tip. An invasion is imminent and would be devastating.
The remaining oldies in Bellingen recall the days when there was a rooster in every second backyard, and that early morning crow, plus the old kookaburra laugh, served as the alarm clock for a population that worked, rose and retired with the chooks. Tougher days, when a footloose rooster would quickly finish up in someone’s oven.
All those roosters heartlessly dumped to starve at our tip is the true test of modern day affluence.
Remember that once a year baked rooster for Christmas. Have to confess to grabbing a couple more than once over the years, but only in self defense when attacked. Heads off and into Pauline's slow cooker.