The animated Disney movie Robin Hood is narrated by a jovial rooster named Alan-a-Dale who opens the movie through song.  Strumming his lute and hop-stepping to the music, the rooster sings, “Robin Hood and Little John walking through the forest, laughing back and forth at what the other has to say.  Reminiscing this and that and having such a good time, oo-de-lally, oo-de-lally, golly what a day.”

There once was a rooster named Oo-De-Lally who lived with my sister-in-law and brother-in-law on their hobby farm in Canada.  While Oo-De-Lally the Canadian Rooster was named in homage to the movie’s joyful spirit, he was anything but.  He did not hop-step.  He did not care about the day.  He did not play an instrument.  Oo-De-Lally’s actual Disney counterpart was more akin to Beauty and the Beast’s Gaston: handsome, arrogant, and too dumb to be scared of anything.

“Watch out, he’s an asshole,” my sister-in-law, Jenn, warned me as I walked to Oo-De-Lally’s run to check him out.  Oo-De-Lally had come to their family earlier that year; he was one of three roosters in a batch of 26 meat chicks.  My brother-in-law had recently built him his own run separated from the chickens because Oo-De-Lally was an over-sexed bully who liked to be much too “affectionate” to the any feathered ladies and very un-affectionate to anyone else; for example, when my son’s friend came to visit, Oo-De-Lally strutted over and pecked him in the leg.

I stood at the edge of the rooster run and admired this hunky piece of poultry.  He was a giant bird, with a portly caramel-colored breast and a wattle so robust that it slapped him at the base of the neck.  He stood near his feed pan, bobbing his head up and down slightly as he surveyed the chickens on the other side of the fence.

“Hello, Oo-De-Lally; you’re very pretty,” I said.  Oo-De-Lally turned his head incrementally in my direction; if a person could be side-eyed by a rooster, he side-eyed me.  He bent his head down and made one confident peck at his food pan before returning his gaze to the chickens, concluding what would ultimately be 100% of our interaction over his lifetime.

The chickens and Oo-De-Lally were not always kept in their runs; sometimes Jenn or one of the girls would open the gates and let them get their fill of the yard.  The family’s yard backed up to my uncle-in-law’s farm, and the chickens were smart enough to know that they only needed to wander a few dozen feet – or meters, I guess, since Canada – to get their fill of whatever it is chickens do all day.

Oo-De-Lally, however, couldn’t leave well enough alone.  Inexplicably, on more than one occasion, Oo-De-Lally chose to go the exact opposite direction of the chickens – over the driveway, and over a gravel road, through a fence, to the farmland beyond.  The distance?  Much farther than the backyard.  The danger?  Much higher due to the coyotes roaming that area.  The chances of him returning home on his own without needing rescue?  Zero. 

Even after being locked up, the number of times Oo-De-Lally got out of his run on his own and spent the night across the field hiding behind a hay bale so as not to be eaten?  At least once.

“Look at this idiot,” my sister-in-law said into her camera as she videoed Oo-De-Lally strutting across the road.  Sako, one of the family’s two dogs, followed nearby, attempting to guide Oo-De-Lally home.  As he did with me, Oo-De-Lally side-eyed Sako and continued forward.  Sako swung his own head back to the house.

“Oo-De-Lally!”  My sister-in-law yelled to the rooster.  “I can’t believe you’re making me climb that fence again.  You jerk.”

Oo-De-Lally died as he lived: a pretentious dumb-dumb.  One morning, my niece went out to feed the birds.  When she returned two hours later, the lid on the feed bin was knocked off and the rooster was no more, having eaten himself to death.

Like Gaston, Oo-De-Lally may be gone, but will live forever in our memories.  For my family-in-law, those memories will mainly be related to having to protect that rooster from his own hubris.  For me, it will be our brief summer moment in the coop.  Oo-de-lally, oo-de-lally, golly what a day.

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The photo above is of Oo-De-Lally chasing after the chickens.

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This week on North Dakota Today we talked about three volunteers helping out Northlands Rescue Mission, my Nice People of the Week, as well a new book about following your passion. (Valley News Live)

“Moms, dads, grandmas, aunts and uncles and all that, they help fill shifts. … It’s a huge ask all around,” she said. “It’s a great opportunity for our skaters to get to compete, because we’re in such a rural location. … Being able to let these girls compete in our backyard is a huge opportunity for them.” (Grand Forks Herald)

For the 25th year, 120 students in Minot showcased their inventions at the annual Marketplace for Kids. (KFYR TV)

After 73 years, Kintyre’s Gross family finally got a letter back. (KFYR TV)

The Fargo community is rallying together in support of Charlie’s Place. (Facebook)

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