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Forget about farms; Brentwood’s barnyard spins it live. As if the current cacophony of whining dogs, cooing monkeys, drowning frogs, and rusty swings wasn’t musical enough, we’ve recently experienced a new choir member sporting a wrinkly, red wobble.

Cheng questions why I’m so irritated by the rooster. Me too. All I know is that my arm hairs stand up, my breath hitches, and my eyes squint a little every time I hear it crow. I can’t even count how many times I’ve thought about relevant recipes.

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