Sorry Ends and Bagel Crumbs

“You okay, Renaldo? You’re looking gloomy?”

“Frederick, ol’ chum, I feel like the sorry ends on a loaf of bread; unwanted, but tolerated. I should’ve been born in a coop. Those pigeons know how to stick together. Out here on the streets, we’re traffic fodder; a shooed annoyance; a target for any young punk with a sling shot. I may call it quits and head to the country to find myself a bird of a different color; a shady elm; a mooing cow. Toss in a cock-a-doodle-doo at the break of dawn and I’d call that a bit of heaven.”

“I don’t know about you, but I don’t figure cock-a-doodle-doin’ is any easier on the nerves than some wise-guy leaning’ on his horn while your tryin’ to grab something tasty off the road. Or not blowing’ their horn, and taking one of us on a whitewall-tired funeral march up Third Avenue. Never a pretty sight — or sound. God rest their skid-marked souls. And besides, the country ain’t no place for a city bird. Where you gonna get a bagel like the day-olds they toss away at Millie’s bakery? Not at Farmer Brown’s I can tell ya that much. And where you gonna get a view like the one we get from atop the Empire State Building?”

“All the same, Frederick, I’m gonna take a break from the city life. My wings need to make the acquaintance of an atmosphere that lets me shake off some of this soot.”

***

“Hey, watch what you’re pecking, city-slicker! Those seeds are for growing, not munching. Don’t go messing in the farmer’s field!”

The rooster stood tall, with wings spread wide, kicking up enough dirt to bury a small treasure.

“Now get away from there. We don’t tolerate damn fools filling up their belly who haven’t broken a sweat, or torn a muscle in their labors. You look like you never dirtied a nail in your life. Damn tourist. Now, scram. The sun gets up early around these parts and I’ve got to get some rest. The farm depends on my being punctual. Otherwise, they’d all sleep till noon and the only thing getting sold at the market is me. Now, move along. Sleep in the elm if you like, but be gone in the morning at the first sound of my mellifluous tones.”

***

“Back already, Renaldo?” said Frederick.

“If it didn’t get so dark I’d a been back yesterday. It seems roosters ain’t much different from crabby New Yorkers, but without the ambience. Now shut up and pass me a bagel crumb.”

Photo courtesy of Wiki Commns:

https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Larry_the_Pigeon_Guy_-_Flickr_-_...