I woke up and looked at my phone, it was already 7:30 am. I was late. I jumped out of bed only to discover that I was sick like a dog. My head was pounding, my nose stuffy and my body aching – I had the flu.
Every morning since Cluck Norris was given to me a month ago, the little rooster woke me up with his raspy crow staring at 4 am. With no snooze button, my natural alarm clock continued going off until I couldn’t take it anymore and climbed out of my sleeping bag.
But on this chilly morning, Cluck was silent.
I fed the mares and went to check on my rooster. When I arrived at the stall where I had placed his cage, my heart sank. Golden brown feathers were scattered all over the floor. The door to his cage lay open. Cluck had been massacred by a wild dog during the night and now I was staring at the crime scene.
A deep sadness washed over me. Out here on the lonely road, even a rooster can become your best friend. And after losing Mark Maw who returned to Canada, a friend is all I needed.
Crouching down I whispered goodbye to Cluck and picked up some of his feathers to put on my felt hat. I thought about all of the times he had woken me up in the early morning. The times he made me laugh with his funny antics. His wondrous eyes… I couldn’t believe a wild dog had managed to unlock his cage, rip my little rooster out and eat him. I just wanted to sit there and cry. But I couldn’t. I had to ride 105 hard and desolate kilometres to the Uruguayan border.
With this flu making me feel like I had been run over by a bus, jumping into the saddle is the last thing I wanted to do. But like many times before, I only had one option – cowboy up!
