A peacock’s cry keeps the neighborhood up at night
The tale of the peacock continues.
I wrote a few months ago about the wandering peacock that came
to visit my home in Aromas. It seemed enchanted with our house,
pecking on the windows and taking up several days’ residence on our
deck.
The incident seemed rather sweet and charming at the time. Now
it’s not so charming anymore.
A peacock’s cry keeps the neighborhood up at night
The tale of the peacock continues.
I wrote a few months ago about the wandering peacock that came to visit my home in Aromas. It seemed enchanted with our house, pecking on the windows and taking up several days’ residence on our deck.
The incident seemed rather sweet and charming at the time. Now it’s not so charming anymore.
The peacock is a mystery. We have polled the neighbors, and no one claims ownership, although just about everyone has seen the peacock sauntering by. It likes to hang out with one neighbor’s chickens. It comes in our yard to eat the red berries off the cotoneaster bushes.
When it started to rain, the peacock disappeared for a few weeks. Once the sun came out after the storms, the peacock made a grand re-entry, sporting a full rack of tail feathers and a raucous cry. You know that sound … it’s always used in the movies whenever there’s a jungle scene and the director wants to throw in an exotic and riveting sound.
The shriek of the peacock is unmistakable. It sends shivers down your spine, even if you know what it is. People have compared it to a woman screaming, or a baby crying. It always sounds like some alien love call to me, which in a way, it is.
Apparently it’s peacock mating season, and the shriek is a way of getting the attention of all available peahens in the neighborhood, saying, “Hey baby, come over here!”
All I can say, based on the frequency of the call, that this is a very lonely peacock.
The other night, he started in at about 2 a.m. and kept it up, intermittently, until around 6. Of course, he always seemed to give voice just as I was dropping back to sleep.
I realize that earplugs are an option, but then there’s my dog to deal with, too.
Charley is a timid little dog even at the best of times, but he is sensitive to strange and disturbing noises, and the peacock upsets him no end.
So in the wee hours of the morning, the peacock shrieks somewhere outside, and Charley falls apart in the way that dogs do: trembling, panting, and getting up on the bed, right in my face, begging me to do something, anything, to stop that horrible racket.
Of course you can’t tell a dog, “Go back to sleep. It’s just a peacock.” And every time the bird screamed, Charley would get more and more wound up.
On that endless night, I was cursing peacocks in general and wondering why I ever wanted to get a dog.
I ended up getting a few minutes of sleep, and after taking my son to school, made a beeline for my veterinarian’s office to get some doggie tranquilizers.
I felt guilty for wanting to drug my dog, but it was the only alternative. My vet heartily agreed with me, and in fact had a peacock story of his own. He’d had to trap and remove wandering peacocks from around his home in Aromas, years ago. So he was entirely sympathetic to my plight.
The sedative worked like a charm, and Charley and I finally got some sleep. Although I only gave him one dose, he seems much calmer about the noise now, days later. Thank goodness.
I’m not sure what to do about the peacock, although I may be calling Animal Control in the next day or two if the shrieking doesn’t cease.
As pretty as the peacock is, the noise is too hard to take. His wandering days may be just about over.
