We had this when I was a kid, a neighbour kept a few guinea fowl. They escaped the clutches of the local foxes and maintained a constant early morning racket. It's like listening to a rotating mechanical device that needs oiling. For hours. Oink-oink-oink-oink. It drove us mad. Complaints were made. Nothing. Nada, niente, rien. Nothing that you can do, they are pets. Then one of the neighbours, a very mild mannered man with no vices other than an occasional taste for fine wine, nice clothes and an expensive watch collection, got an air rifle and dealt with the problem over the course of a few early mornings. Peace reigned. Nobody ever suspected , he was the last person who you'd suspect of killing a fly. We only found out years later when my dad was talking to him and said "do you remember?"