Dear chicken thief

will you graduate from Chicken Thief to Thief? or is there nobility within you?

leia em português aqui

You have stolen a rooster. I watched with my own eyes as you ran off with him. The flock chattering in alarm.

A few days ago we found a rooster dead at the foot of the driveway. It was a mystery at the time but now I get it - you killed it . You were only trying to steal it but you killed it trying to yank him through the gate. You didn’t expect him to resist you unto death. Roosters are badass. Have you seen this video of a rooster fighting a hawk? If the rooster was the same size as you - even half the size of you - you would have run away crying like a baby. Thieves are well-known to be scaredy cats.

I now kindly request that you stop stealing and killing my roosters. They have lived here long before you did and will be here long after we are both gone, sir, believe it. They have survived drought and starvation, bird flu and predators - the hawk, the crow, the rat. Cats are everywhere too, sneaking around much as you did.

The flock has survived it all. Except your presence which to them equals death and abduction on a scale never seen before. Scientists assure us that chickens remember faces. They also dream - yes it is true chickens dream, just like me and you.

But while I dreamt of eggs to make French pastry to give to my neighbors (even you, sir, or at least your mama), you perhaps dreamt of coq a vin, or turning your laying hen into a chick factory, raising chickens for eating?

I don’t imagine the rooster has landed in a better place than he had here. Here, he lived with generations of family. There is shelter and food and water and a lot of ground on which to scratch around. He’s missing out, that rooster, and he knows it; at night he likely dreams of his brothers and sisters and cousins all running around talking about him, a kidnapping and murder in one week is a lot for this flock to take in.

But they know your face now, Mr. Chicken Thief. In case you are thinking of coming back to steal a hen. The flock knows you’ll kill them in your attempt to steal. They - we - are taking evasive measures. The cameras are watching you, Mr. Chicken Thief. And some of the roosters, the big ones, have a look in their eye… a look left over perhaps from their dream of revenge. A revenge I may not be able to stop them from exacting, Mr. Chicken Thief, if they see your face on this side of the street again. The sidewalk on the other side of the street may not be far enough to be safe from the roosters’ rageful regard. But that’s where I’d walk if I were you, Mr. Chicken Thief.

Not that you should worry - my large dog would not let a rooster do more than peck out your eye, he is a good and loving dog who would do anything to help someone being unjustly attacked by a rooster. But justly attacked? You can only hope that dogs and roosters do not speak a common language, Mr. Killer Chicken Thief, because an angry rooster is one thing but an angry dog protecting his loved ones and backed up by a gang of feral Italianos… well, you are either a very brave or very stupid young man.

What you are not is an honorable young man, which is the true crime being committed here, if you set aside your casual murder and theft among this flock, which seems to you to be a thing of no moment, a trivial escapade. How easily we lose our humanity, one day you are dropping a beer bottle outside, or letting an old woman stand while you remain comfortably seated and next thing you know you are stealing roosters, calling women bitches and not making your mother proud at all.

Did I mention, thieving becomes you? Yes you looked very young and strong and carefree and handsome as you ran away with a flapping rooster squawking under your arm. You looked heroic, the Portuguese Jean Valjean stealing to save the fate of his family (though if that is the case you are welcome to the rooster just stop stealing).

But one cannot remain a thief for long, even a handsome one and stay out of jail forever. We at Casa dos Galos would like to help you stay out of jail; jail is a big punishment for the little crime of rooster theft. But will you stop at roosters? Crime is a slippery slope, especially crimes that you think you are getting away with. It’s easy to think because you didn’t get stopped no one got hurt but that’s a logical fallacy you must not fall for, Mr. Chicken Thief.

Which is why we will happily bribe you to stop killing and kidnapping members of this flock. That’s right - instead of you giving me €15 Euro for a laying hen I will give you €15 Euro to go buy a hen somewhere else.

Now I realize you may just pocket the money and steal a hen. You’ve shown your true colors already. But I hope not. I hope it’s not too late for you to become something other than a thief. Because being a thief is a low occupation, a refuge for the lazy of mind and body. You seem too young to be already sliding into the cesspool of thieves. Hanging out with thieves is like standing around in a stagnant pond, only when you get out do you realize you have bloodsuckers all over you.

You seem young and energetic judging by the way you galloped down the street with the chicken you stole. Why not put your quick reflexes and speed and cunning to work for you and your family, something more elevated than Chicken Thief. Maybe you have a talent with computers, or you have a carpenter’s love of beautiful wood. Maybe you are the future most successful house painter of Portugal.

Or maybe you’re just a thief because that’s easiest.

Well I can tell you your future, Mr. Thief. Because you aren’t the first petty theft we’ve endured. That’s what the police called you in the police report, a petty thief - do you like that? You aren’t the first to come here and try to see what you could steal away. There was another thief here; he lives not far from here, a neighbor in fact. His name is Ricardo. When we reported the theft and where the thief was (like you, the thief didn’t count on being on camera) the police laughed and laughed. Oh that thief is Ricardo, they said. He is well know to the police. What a loser.

The police didn’t actually say What a loser, they were too civil and respectful for that. They were apologetic that we had become the victims of a loser thief. We’re not all like that, they said. He’s just a loser, their tone implied. Not like the rest of ous.

So that’s who you are right now - a thief and a loser. Will you transcend it? Or will you embrace it and return to the scene of the crime hoping to steal a hen to mate with the rooster you kidnapped.

As much as I want that rooster, if he’s still alive, to spend his days with a hen from the flock from the only place he’s ever known as home - Casa dos Galos- as much as I want that for him I’d rather he be returned and I give you enough Euro to buy a replacement. Such a splendid fellow could cost as much as €25 Euro so the $15 Euro I was going to charge your dad was a real deal.

Because I think the man at the fence a week ago asking if he could buy a rooster is probably your dad. There were two men who stopped. One was polite but the other said “What’s to stop me from taking one now?” He said it in Portuguese which I understand better than I speak.

If my dad told me to steal something I probably would have. I was scared of my dad and also loved him a lot and I would have been glad to help him with something difficult like catch a live rooster. (Not an easy feat at all by the way - bravo on you, Mr. Chicken Thief). I wouldn’t have really let myself realize that being a thief is just being a thief no matter your reason for doing it. Being a thief is saying, I deserve this more than you, I am willing to hurt you- people whose lives I know nothing about- to get what I want.

Like, you couldn’t have known my daddy died recently, and my mother is in the hospital with pneumonia. I’d like to believe if you’d known all of that you’d think maybe we should not take more things from this lady right now, maybe taking care of this flock and earning their trust helps her deal with the death of her daddy and fearing the impending loss of her mother at which point she will be an orphan, a place none of us wants to go but where we will all end up someday.

Well Mr Chicken Thief we will give you €30 and hope that any old hens or roosters will do when it comes to buying; we hope you are not weirdly fixated on further disruption to our hens or roosters. If you are, know this: we are taking preventative measures. The roosters have planned a counter offensive. Even if I could stop them, I wouldn’t. They are angry, Mr. Chicken Thief. They have lived through hard times you can only dream of. Family is what kept them together. Family and the new owner’s dedicated talent for getting rid of pests and predators.

Family can drive you apart - we know that. Family asking you to steal. Family saying you aren’t better than us. Stealing is good enough for us it’s good enough for you. That’s the story thieves tell themselves.

What story will you tell yourself?

Please provide the rooster with a good place to roost, and companions, and access to the natural world. Chickens are social animals. You’ve torn this guy from his family. I guess you had a reason you think is good but imagine how the rooster feels, missing the flock that dreams about him every night.

Don’t hurt or scare them anymore, Mr. Chicken Thief. And I hope you stay a Mr. Chicken Thief and don’t become plain old Mr. Thief.

p.s to get the money please tape an envelope to the gate that says I am the chicken thief and I am sorry, I’ll put the euro inside. When you pick up the euro please tie a yellow ribbon to the gate - I told the roosters this would be your surrender flag and they will not launch their counter offensive if they see a yellow ribbon. Good luck, Mr. Chicken Thief. Word is out.

Remember character is what you do when no one is watching.