In the proud township of Vernonburg, there are no specific laws, but there are "opinions" (on who can and who can't - and how - dating back to the 1700s) and they like it that way. In my estimation, which is considered minimal at only five years of residence, a sense of humor, and a laissez-faire attitude are de rigueur.
Still, battles break out.
On one side of the street, roosters and hens roam freely. On the other side, the complaint primarily rests with the crowing. The one complaining has lit firecrackers on the beasts and reportedly greased door hinges in order to better sneak up on the fowl and "give 'em a good scare."
One day, hearsay suggests that the put-out neighbor, incensed, pulled up the bird owner's tomato and basil garden leaving the stalks in a heap by the road.
In order to make good, call a truce to the war, the defendants delivered supper.
On the menu, roasted chicken and you know what kind of salad, bien sur.