"I want a picture of a really powerful animal, a king-kind-of-animal," said Edison. We were making new covers for our Bible notebooks. Rose had drawn angels and a throne on her cover. St. George had a castle with two turrets and all kinds of regal symbology decorating the front. Edison wanted me to print a picture of a real animal, most ferocious and fearsome.
"I know! Print a picture of a chicken!"
"A chicken?"
"Well, not just any chicken. A Rooster."
Now, for those who have no experience with roosters this might seem a strange choice. Until we lived with roosters we had no idea they were anything more than rural alarm clocks. We were not prepared for the petty dictators that took over our farmyard. To their credit, we have not lost a single chicken since the roosters became adults. When coyotes were picking off the ducks one by one, the hens remained undisturbed.
The brown rooster shifts his little beady eyes around like a short Peter Laurie, waiting for the slightest slip--a turned back, a short glance away--to rush and spur the unsuspecting victim. The large black rooster is a swaggering Mr. T whose every strut, every crow, calls, "Come on, fool! Just try to mess with me!" We have all been spurred at least once by these roosters, and while I wouldn't call them regal, I can certainly understand why Edison considers them powerful.
He got his chicken picture for the front of his notebook, but I ask him to keep that notebook inside his desk. The rooster's beady little eyes follow me all around the room.
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