mate, a black hen named Wallflower, in the closet of
caretaker Mark Buckley’s Jefferson Avenue apartment.
Apparently Mr. Clucky crowed one time too often, at 6 amas usual, just after South Beach revelers and their bartendersand other drug dealers retired for the day. As aconsequence, a Code Compliance officer arrived at Mr.
Buckley’s place and handed him a $50 ticket for living with
a farm animal. He has 10 days to get rid of the rooster, orelse. Or else nothing, except more fines and citations, which
he won’t be a
rrested for, said Assistant City Manager Hilda
Fernandez, if he doesn’t cough up –
whether or not therooster and hen will be taken by force has not been figuredout yet. Although your illegally parked car will be towed in nothing flat for a fat fee, the lack of stiff enforcement of certain city ordinances is certainly nothing new in the history of SouthBeach, notwithstanding Urban Week. A far greater nuisancethan a single cock crowing at dawn is the tolerance of dogscrapping all over the neighborhood at all hours of day andnight. So lax is enforcement that many residents havedeveloped the habit of looking down while walking, notbecause they are depressed by the flagrant violation of the
ordinance, but because they don’t want to step in a pile.
Dog lovers used to at least curb their dogs, but our tolerantsociety has lately encouraged them to allow their dogs tocrap directly on the sidewalk. Some sidewalks and curbs are worse than others
lazy dog owners do not even bother totake their dogs in front of another building, or at least into
the alley in back of their own building, to answer Nature’s
call. The small apartment complex where I live has a fencearound it. The landlord has allowed his tenants to turn ourcommon yard into a kennel
he refuses to fix the lock on