One rainy afternoon in August, I sensed a strong emptiness in my heart—a void that demanded to be filled, and the only solution was the addition of a new pet to my family.

I had four pets already: a Persian cat, a white bunny, a ball python, and a Chihuahua; but, as I realized that fateful day, I needed one more to be a full-time pet owner. I had always wanted a French bulldog, but I’m not one to rush important decisions. There are many factors to consider before committing to a new pet, the two big ones being its maintenance and ability to cohabit with your other pets.

I needed advice from other pet owners, and I knew just how to seek it. I was a member of a closed Facebook group called Must Knows for Pets. Its members are mainly bird enthusiasts, so I wasn’t shocked by the amount of responses I received recommending I adopt one of many species of birds.

One bird lover strongly insisted that I should adopt a chicken: “The most fruitful of birds,” he emphasized, “Mine easily lays 90 plus eggs, and I barely spend time nourishing it.” 

I was sold. It was a brilliant plan. This would totally bump up my ranking on the Great Pet Asylums (GPA).

The bird lover kindly offered to bring me a chicken from his farm, and I happily accepted. As he handed me that beautiful fowl, I once more expressed my gratitude for his help.

“You are very welcome,” he replied, “This chicken is the animal equivalent of a cactus. You don’t have to do much to sustain it. Just sit back and enjoy the eggs.”

I had built a small rectangular fence in the corner of my backyard. I placed the chicken inside its new home and went back inside to feed the cat, rabbit, snake, and dog. And as soon as I did, I felt the heaviest weight being lifted off my shoulders.

I was suddenly free of all stress. That night, I slept so hard my eyes were hurting. But as soon as the Sun began to rise, a demoniac noise awoke me. I naturally assumed I was but dreaming and attempted to go back to sleep; however, the noise repeated itself. I got out of bed and looked out my window. It was at that moment that I realized I was not an owner of a hen. The bird lover had given me a rooster. All my other pets followed that satanic bird. The dog began barking; the cat jumped on my bed and started scratching the pillow; the snake and the rabbit got into a fight, blaming one another for that horrible noise.

When I realized that I must hear that rooster crow every morning, and it wouldn’t even lay any eggs, the weight of the world was placed back on my shoulders. I wished I had instead gotten the French bulldog that I passionately desired. Unfortunately, GPA’s date to adopt new pets had passed, and I was stuck with my cock.