Noise in the Night

"Once more into the breech."

I've got the scoop on Panama roosters. They are not expected to do their thing at dawn. No, they are thought of more like church clocks that go off once an hour. And I love this next part, their crowing is not called crowing, or cawing or screeching or howling or what is that god awful noise, it's called, can you believe this, singing. Alrighty then. If that's singing than Tarzan just became Pavarotti.

MacDog doth murder sleep. Just when we had adjusted to the, uh, singing of Caruso the Wonder Chicken comes now the caroling of our neighbor's dogs. For several days, and more notably, nights, these grim sleep reapers have been baying at the top of their voices. They are doing so even as I speak. Their howling has a pitiful, wounded quality to it like coyotes who got into some tainted rabbit. Long, plaintive wails of pain. Our neighbor says there is a female in heat... stop right there. A female in heat. Now there's an expression that requires something. An explanation perhaps or at least a comment. Let me think....Female in heat.... Okay I got nothing, but c'mon, there's agonized dog moanings in the background and it's hard to be clever when you can't hear your own thoughts. He, my neighbor, says the heated up, hot to trot, hussy bee-atch is responsible for his mutt's distress and that may be so. Last night, at roughly two, when the howling achieved decibel levels heretofore only reached with electrical amplification, we also heard, added to the din, several other dogs snarling and snapping at each other in an effort to respond to whatever canine come-ons the female was using. "Hey Sailor, looking for a good time?" This brought our dog, Gus, who had been ignoring the howlers, to instant life as defense of our property against dog intruders is his first priority. The nearness of his sudden barking and frantic door scratching was the final end to blissful dreamland.

It's 9:30 in the morning now and the dogs have just this moment abruptly stopped baying. Funny, I didn't hear gunshots. Maybe Minnie the Mutt has found her suitor and is off to the dog motel. No matter. Whatever. It's quiet. I'm headed for a nap.