“Tweedledum and Tweedledee agreed to have a battle; for Tweedledum stated Tweedledee had spoiled his good new rattle.” —Lewis Carroll, By the Trying Glass
I firmly consider there’s a delusion abounding as to what the oldest occupation is. The reality is the oldest occupation is preventing. Individuals have this innate must confront each other.
The world was simply in its infancy in biblical instances when Cain didn’t like the truth that his brother Abel was making a clear sweep of it so far as pleasing the Lord along with his sacrifices. Abel’s choices have been all accepted immediately, whereas Cain’s have been about as in style because the Edsel. (Or for you millennials, today the fountain pen). Cain may have and may have simply walked away and brought over the remainder of the Earth, which at this juncture was his for the taking. As an alternative, he selected a battle.
Some of us simply don’t get alongside, with a feud usually lingering for rages. I consider the 100 Years Battle between England and France through the 14th and fifteenth centuries.
Which brings me to my former rooster man shopper, Rodney Wittingham. Rodney stored a platoon of chickens. Not on a farm however in his yard in downtown Toronto. Other than utilizing the eggs, he simply loved his pastoral rural oasis. He additionally ate solely natural produce, bicycled to work and recycled the whole lot. You’ve obtained it.
He was a proud Englishman, making excessive tea a day by day ritual. I do know for positive Rodney may readily hint his ancestors again to the Duke of Wellington.
The gentleman was a historical past professor related to the native college.
On the opposite facet within the pink nook was a Frenchman, his neighbor, Jean Claude Boulet. Monsieur Boulet grew up in Paris, and he loved nothing greater than coming residence from his hair salon on the finish of a tough day’s work and lounging in his yard patio sipping a glass of wine. He had a canine, a beagle named François.
One would anticipate the 2 sides naturally to get alongside simply superb. Surprisingly, some friction developed. Alas! Monsieur Boulet began bugging my shopper.
First, he complained my shopper’s chickens have been smelly. He insisted he had the precise to sit down on his patio with out having to ingest the scent of those pullets. Now there was a Brit-hating racist if I ever noticed one.
Then he insisted the birds have been noisy. The fixed clucking of the hens have been unhealthy sufficient, however the worst half he alleged was that rooster who sounded reveille each morning on the morning time. The extra he would ask my shopper to do one thing, the extra Rodney would dig in deeper, insisting a person’s residence was his citadel. Certainly that Frenchman ought to have understood this good Englishman’s basic proper. In any case, this was Toronto, not the Parisian Left Financial institution.
Monsieur Boulet then obtained aggressive. First, he despatched François to alleviate himself on Rodney’s bicycle. Different canines could be content material to select bushes or hearth hydrants, however Boulet skilled that mongrel to modify to my poor shopper’s sole technique of transportation.
One factor result in one other. The ultimate straw was the day François grabbed considered one of my shopper’s chickens along with his snout and carried her out of the yard and onto the sidewalk.
No hurt really got here to the hen, aside from the very fact she obtained very nervous, anticipating maybe that she was on her last vacation spot to Colonel Sanders’ area.
My shopper, within the completely defensive temper of a person defending his citadel, went out along with his umbrella and nudged François a bit. Monsieur Boulet noticing the cajoling with the umbrella apparently mistook the scene, and he charged out and tackled my completely harmless shopper on the sidewalk. What ensued was WrestleMania 43, ensuing within the police attending and all sides charging the opposite with assault.
Because the trial was about to start, the prosecutor backed off, and it was agreed that every lawyer would act as prosecutor in opposition to the opposite social gathering, in addition to protection counsel for his personal. The prosecutor simply sat again leisurely on the sidelines to benefit from the manufacturing.
The proof went on for a whole day. In the course of the trial the opposite facet launched all types of irrelevant proof about Rodney’s chickens. Neighbors testified in regards to the alleged smells and sounds. The opposite lawyer even recommended to the decide, pointing to the umbrella which had grow to be “Exhibit 4,” that my shopper should have been charged beneath the Legal Code with possession of a harmful weapon.
Rodney was no much less zealous in his argument suggesting François was not a beagle in any respect, alleging wildly his mom was really a pit bull terrier. This result in additional outbursts within the court docket by all sides in regards to the different’s mom. Rodney additionally demanded the hound be put to sleep forthwith.
The trial may have gone on longer. I had to make use of all my persuasive powers to maintain my shopper from bringing the victimized rooster to court docket. Anyway, I don’t assume the hen would have agreed to return with out a subpoena.
The trial ended with the decide throwing her fingers up within the air and dismissing all costs in opposition to everybody. She recommended the events shake fingers like good neighbors. This end result was doubtless an oxymoron. She could as effectively have recommended Wile E. Coyote shake fingers with the Street Runner.
The events definitely each obtained some struggle out of themselves. And not less than they’d it out civilly in a courtroom, not like Cain and Abel.
Marcel Strigberger, after 40-plus years of working towards civil litigation within the Toronto space, closed his legislation workplace and determined to proceed his humor writing and talking passions. His newest e book is First, Let’s Kill the Lawyer Jokes: An Attorney’s Irreverent Serious Look at the Legal Universe. Go to MarcelsHumour.com, and comply with him at @MarcelsHumour on X, previously often called Twitter.
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