In the cool darkness of the early dawn, with the aroma of coffee brewing, grandma's red rooster joins the chorus of crowing roosters. That red rooster is known for his cockiness and meanness. He seems to enjoy crowing right outside my window. He sounds like he is crowing right into my ear. He is almost chuckling about his feat to wake me up. Any other day, I would have run outside with my slingshot to get the cocky bird, but today I laid still pretending to sleep. I quietly unlocked the window screen and prepared to grab the fowl when he came around for his second wake-up yell. I could hear him nearby, his feet clawing, scratching the dirt along the fence. He was so proud of himself, I heard him chuckling preparing as he neared my window. I waited for him to start to fan his wings as he always does before crowing. When he started fanning, I lurched, pushing open the window screen. Startled, he screams, flying away from my grasp into the flowered bush. Disgusted with himself, the red rooster defiantly walks away from my laughter, scratching and muttering.

My grandmother ordered me to fix the window screen and wash up for breakfast. I could smell the fresh tortillas she was baking on the stove grill. From the outside of the house, I pushed into place the window screen and ran around the front to wash at the faucet by the front porch. There was a huge pomegranate tree by the faucet. There was one big red pomegranate just right for picking. I dried my wet face with the towel on grandma's rocker. I gave my grandma the pomegranate and hugged her "buenos días (good morning)." My tias-aunts and my sisters were already eating the migas con huevo. Tia Graciela tells me "don't forget to lock the screen." My tia Licha smiles and says "that gallo (rooster) and you are both crazy." My sisters also laugh at her comment. I didn't care, I was too hungry to argue. I asked my grandmother about my cousin, José. "Why does he get to sleep late?" My grandma ignores my inquiry. I yell out in the direction of my sleeping cousin, "There are only five tortillas left and I haven't even started my breakfast." In a flash, José was sitting at the table. My tias burst out laughing. My cousin looked funny, hair all disheveled and eyes barely open and now he is blushing. My grandmother also laughed and called him "relampago" lightening. José quickly took two tortillas and put them under his plate. Then he realized that there was a stack of about twenty in the cazuela.

This summer was not as bad as other past summers. I think I had gotten used to spending them in Laredo with my abuelita- grandma. I remember that initially when we spent our first summer, my older sister and I felt we were being punished by our parents. After all, they left us here with abuelita and she would make us work hard. After a few summers, we realized that we really helped her with those things she did. Every morning before dawn, the even beat of the old wringer-type washer was busy working washing the dentist's towels and uniforms. Water had to be boiled for washing. There were no hot water heaters yet in Grandma's house. In fact, I remembered when they added the indoor toilet and utility room. Before then, the outhouse was way in the backyard and there was a small shed where the washing machine was. The clotheslines were by that old shed, in front of the chicken pens. Every morning before dusk the first thing my grandma and aunts would do was to sprinkle water over the ground so that to hinder the flying dust on the newly washed towels. The wash would be dried by noon in the hot Laredo sun. Then all towels and uniforms had to be ironed and prepared and be taken to the dentist's office by 4 o'clock.

My sister Lupe and this red rooster had bad blood between them. I remember one time Lupe, then about 6 years-old, running like crazy and the red rooster chasing her. I had my slingshot and shot at the mean bird. The fiery bird stopped and walked away muttering. When grandma heard the latest incident of the red rooster, she just shook her head.

Nothing happened for a few weeks, until the day when my grandmother was outside picking oranges and watering the fruit trees. The red rooster went on the attack on my grandma. My grandma got the rake and hit the mean bird away from her. She then called out for me and my cousin. She instructed us to make a trap to catch the mean bird. She told us to be cautious because the rooster's sharp spurs can really injure a person.

José and I made a trip to the big supermarket. We walked the dusty dirt street until we arrived at the only paved street for miles. We walked barefoot on the hot dirt. We spoke to Tony, the owner of Tony's Supermercado and asked him for a wooden apple box. After getting three boxes we walked back to grandma's. One box was for the trap and the other two were for making shoe shine boxes. The afternoon sun was beating hot and the air was dry. The cicada were singing all along the way home. We went back a different way. Down this street there were a lot of trees shading the street. When we finally arrived, my grandma gave us some "agua pintada", or kool aid. It was good. We rested on the porch planning our trap. We figured that we do it like a rabbit trap. Get a stick and some string and setup the box with some chicken scratch for bait. Then pull the string to catch the foul fowl.

It took two tries but we caught the rooster. We waited until Saturday for my dad to arrive from San Antonio to butcher the bird. Grandma made arroz con pollo with that tough rooster.

My grandma bought another rooster, and it had a kinder disposition.