Preparing Peacock Pate'

We live on Cooper Mountain. It's lovely up here. We have a wonderful view and a large yard lined with towering firs and cedars. You might call it A Little Slice Of Serenity.

And it used to be. But then late Spring happened, and the screaming started.

The very first time I heard it, Husband and I were sitting outside on our deck, enjoying a crisp but sunny late April afternoon. In the midst of our enjoyment, waaaay off in the distance, we heard a muted half-honk, followed by five successive birthday party horn-blows. (You know those party favors, right? You blow into the end that looks like an overgrown cigarette filter and then the rolled-up tail unfurls, fills with air and makes that horn-fart sound. Too fun.) Husband and I turned toward each other, both of us wearing the "what the f*** was that?" look, and waited for the next honk. It never came. Until night time. Then it went on for hours. And hours. And, yes, some more hours. Right outside our window.

"Husband," I said, "I do believe that pesky perturbance is a prowling peacock." Ok, I didn't use all of that alliteration, but I DID call it right. Somehow, someway, some dumbshit left their pet peacock out here on top of this mountain when they moved far, far away. I'm sure Petey was a wonderful member of their family for a good eight months or so, and then the Season of Love came along and he had no girlfriend. He probably saw the squirrels doing it, the bunnies doing it, everyone doing it. And he wanted to do it, too, so he cleared his throat and let out his best let's-get-it-on holla. That's when his former owners packed up their crap and took off for Omaha.

Petey is STILL waiting for some she-cock to answer his horny-horn. He screams for her constantly, but it ain't happenin' and he ain't getting that through his tiny skull peanut. I will say this... he IS a persistent bugger. And he is gorgeous. During the day. It IS kinda cool to have a zoo-bird prancing around your yard. During the day. It seems like a lucky omen to have him in our presence, in the wild. During the day. During the day. During the damn day.

So, the dilemma...Husband, Sons and I like to do our sleeping at night. Peacock does not. Peacock likes to let out his pent-up frustration at night. Who would have guessed that those feathered packs of poultry could fly sky-high to roost mid-tree in one of those towering firs I told you about earlier. You know, the ones that line our property. Right outside our window.

I have declined the many offers of pellet-gun service from friends and relatives. Drunk men have tried to scare it out of its evening perch by tossing dirt-clods at it, but they've only managed to hit the neighbor's house. Husband has even promised Sons cash on the barrel if they could sling-shot a pine cone in its vicinity, but no luck. No one wants to hurt the dang bird, we just want it to fly away at night. Actually, we just want it to shut up. I'm totally okay with him taking up residence in my tree, he just needs to do it quietly.

So if you have any suggestions on how we can all just get along, please write!! For the sake of all sleep-deprived humans and sex-starved fowl.