Wednesday, May 4th was International Respect for Chickens Day. When I found out, I laughed out loud, and I'm going to relay why, even though it won't be half as funny for all of you as it is for me.
On May 3, 2003, the lovely Mrs. Jib and I got married. At that time we lived in a "culturally diverse" apartment complex smack dab in the middle of a town of 12,000. On May 4th we had our gift opening. As everyone dragged their sorry, hung over heinies up to our apartment, my dad noticed a rooster crowing. It was a very unusual sound for the middle of town. My uncle, my dad, and I went out to investigate, and we discovered the crowing was coming from the garage next to ours. We Jibs are very logical folk, and after a quick powwow, we figured that our neighbors were preparing to have a fresh meal for Cinco de Mayo the next day. I named the rooster Chuck, knowing full well that Chuck was not long for this world. Sure enough, at dusk the world was deprived of Chuck's majestic voice. Each year on May fourth, I think of that damned rooster. Now I learn that the poor bastard gave his life for a Mexican feast on the day designated to "Show the world that chickens are people too!" and I can't help but bow my head, snicker, and then honor Chuck with a little "cuck-a-doodle-doo!"
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