Just after my dad got out of the Navy, we were renting a 1-acre rural place, where we raised livestock to supplement dad's income while he and mom were going to college.
Dad's day would consist of arising at about 05:30 to start us on the farming chores; he'd be out of the house at about 06:15 for his 07:00 classes; his last class would conclude around noon, and dad would come home, have some lunch and then head off to the Naval Undersea Warfare Center at Keyport at about 14:30 for the swing shift; dad would get home from work at about midnight and do homework until about 02:00 before finally getting some sack time.
One Friday night, dad had just finished his homework for the night, and was climbing into bed, when the chickens started crowing outside. And they kept crowing. And crowed some more. And dad could not get to sleep through the crowing, no matter what he tried.
So, when we arose at 05:30 Saturday morning to do the morning chores, we headed out back to find a string of 7 or 8 dead chickens dangling from the fence, and dad slaughtering the next one. You never met a group of kids more sick of eating chicken by the time we finished off that stack of 'em.
Lucky for your dad, it was just a rooster Crowing.
I lived for a few years on a farm in Tenn., crazy lady up the road a piece raised PEACOCKS.
Those SOB flew off at times to sit outside neighbors homes 5-10 miles away.
If you had a good size tree in the yard, the females would build a big nest way up in the top.
Now I expect the crazy lady was a Yankee who hated living in the south and had found a way to drive everyone start raving mad.
I had no idea that Peacocks could live in that climate untill one early morning after the Rooster had heralded the coming dawn, I was awakened by these screams ----Help--Help.
WTF------sure got me up real fast. I finally found using my binoculars one of those darn birds sitting on a fence post way off in the field.
Now I have no idea if the female yells because the only time I actually saw the bird making a racket it was a male.
These darn things would come into the barn yard looking for chicken feed and hang about if they found it.
My motherin-law lived about a foot ball field from me and she hated Yankees--both her sons had disappointed her by marring from the north and she let everyone know how she felt about that state of affairs.
My sister-in-law would visit with Hubby's brother once a week and she and I would go out the back door and sneak into the barn with a gallon jug to fill with chicken feed and spread it behind the barn so the Peacocks would stay.
Came down to female cat fight, Sherriff got called in and it went into a stand off, Crazy Lady would get rid of her Peacocks if everyone else got rid of their Roosters.
Shame I couldn't stay to watch the show, I had to come home as my father was not to live much longer.
