You know how much I enjoy my walks along the trail. These walks are therapeutic and give me much time for my thoughts. You would think that I am a nature-lover (which I am) and have a great love for all God’s creatures (which I do not). We have already established my great fear of snakes. I do enjoy seeing the many varieties of absolutely beautiful birds. Sparrows, jays, egrets, blue herons, cardinals, woodpeckers, finches. And though I have been personally pooped on by a sea gull, I do not hold all birds accountable.
My trail winds around a beautiful lake. Lakes are natural homes for ducks and geese. I love to see a mother lead her young family across land or water. They are so precious and well behaved. But add daddy Gander and you could have a problem. One day I paused to watch a beautiful flock of geese. They were snacking, talking, relaxing and generally having a nice day at the park. I was minding my own business, mind you.
Mr. Gander Goose looked my way as though to say, “Whachu lookin’ at?”
“Nothing,” said I with a smile.
“Then move it,” said he.
“It’s my lake, too,” I replied standing my ground.
This guy stretched his neck to its full extension at which point he was as tall as me. He spread his wings to their full expanse. He was much wider than me. He honked threateningly as he came toward me. I looked at him, he looked at me, our eyes locked in potential combat. In a physical battle, I knew he would be the victor after rearranging my face. Not sure I could outrun him, my quick wits and calm thinking gave me an idea. Ever so slowly I removed the cap from my water bottle.
Eyes still locked, I sent the telepathic message, “Back off, Buster, or I’ll throw this water on you.” He was smart enough to back off and go back to his family. I walked away victorious thinking to myself, “Did I just threaten a water fowl with water?” Man! I’m good!
On another day, as I approached Bridge 14, I heard a rapid scratching sound on the wooden planks. A look in that direction revealed a turtle scurrying across the span. Now, I’m not a big turtle fan. I generally think of them as slimy disgusting creatures. But this guy was out of the water, dry, and moving right along. I immediately thought of the “Tortoise and the Hare.” In my estimation, this fellow could win the race hands down. He was focused and movin' on. When I stepped on the bridge, he began to move even faster. My respect for this animal was increasing with each quick scratchy step he took. I thought, “If he can move this fast now, I wonder how fast he would move if I run up behind him and scare him.” Being quite the animal behavior experimentalist, I did just that. I ran up behind him and stomped loudly. He stopped. Dead still. I thought I might have literally scared him to death. Then he moved his head ever so slowly from the left to the right as though looking to see if anyone was watching. Only God and I saw as the circle of wetness spread out around him. I frightened him so badly, he peed his pants.
Did I feel bad? Nah!
My trail winds around a beautiful lake. Lakes are natural homes for ducks and geese. I love to see a mother lead her young family across land or water. They are so precious and well behaved. But add daddy Gander and you could have a problem. One day I paused to watch a beautiful flock of geese. They were snacking, talking, relaxing and generally having a nice day at the park. I was minding my own business, mind you.
Mr. Gander Goose looked my way as though to say, “Whachu lookin’ at?”
“Nothing,” said I with a smile.
“Then move it,” said he.
“It’s my lake, too,” I replied standing my ground.
This guy stretched his neck to its full extension at which point he was as tall as me. He spread his wings to their full expanse. He was much wider than me. He honked threateningly as he came toward me. I looked at him, he looked at me, our eyes locked in potential combat. In a physical battle, I knew he would be the victor after rearranging my face. Not sure I could outrun him, my quick wits and calm thinking gave me an idea. Ever so slowly I removed the cap from my water bottle.
Eyes still locked, I sent the telepathic message, “Back off, Buster, or I’ll throw this water on you.” He was smart enough to back off and go back to his family. I walked away victorious thinking to myself, “Did I just threaten a water fowl with water?” Man! I’m good!
On another day, as I approached Bridge 14, I heard a rapid scratching sound on the wooden planks. A look in that direction revealed a turtle scurrying across the span. Now, I’m not a big turtle fan. I generally think of them as slimy disgusting creatures. But this guy was out of the water, dry, and moving right along. I immediately thought of the “Tortoise and the Hare.” In my estimation, this fellow could win the race hands down. He was focused and movin' on. When I stepped on the bridge, he began to move even faster. My respect for this animal was increasing with each quick scratchy step he took. I thought, “If he can move this fast now, I wonder how fast he would move if I run up behind him and scare him.” Being quite the animal behavior experimentalist, I did just that. I ran up behind him and stomped loudly. He stopped. Dead still. I thought I might have literally scared him to death. Then he moved his head ever so slowly from the left to the right as though looking to see if anyone was watching. Only God and I saw as the circle of wetness spread out around him. I frightened him so badly, he peed his pants.
Did I feel bad? Nah!
3 comments:
Joy,
I love this story. The turtle story maed me laugh so hard. Only you could make a turtle pee his pants!
...think you may have perhaps filled the shoes of the late and wonderfully humorous, but profound, Erma Bombeck. You make me laugh when I want to cry.
Next, you should tell the story of the duck family that we saw get smashed by the car. Still one of the saddest things I've ever seen.
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