This is a copy of an email I posted on a few groups I'm on March 17, 2013. It has received so many laughs I thought I'd share it with the rest of you.
For your Sunday entertainment.
Ahhh spring. The Bradford pears are covered with white
flowers, the wild flowers are peeking up through the dead grass and the bird
migrations have begun.
It is also the season of our 40th wedding
anniversary. Saturday, March 16, yesterday in fact. You know when
you are on the Dave Ramsey debt payoff plan when you celebrate such a milestone
by cutting down dead trees and stacking firewood. LOL! Yep, that’s
what we did for part of the day at least. I threw in a little laundry, we
sat in the shade and chatted some too, mid 70’s it was nice. We
decided months ago there would be no gifts for this anniversary, that instead
we’d work hard on paying our debt off and putting money back for a big trip to
celebrate later.
Dh did insist on taking me out for a steak dinner, that we
paid far too much for, but he says it will be 40 more years before we have another
40 (80) anniversary and he thought I at least deserved a steak dinner for
putting up with him for so long.
So we put on our “go to town” clothes and went out to
dinner, just the two of us. The weather bottomed out while we were in the
restaurant and I regretted my short sleeved blouse on the run back to the
truck, but I enjoyed the meal immensely. I can’t remember the last time I
had steak, I know it was before DR.
Dh also refused to do any errands on the way home, he said
“another time, tonight we relax.”
Somebody forgot to tell ds that. He was waiting for us
on the porch when we pulled up. “I need your guys help right away.” Were
the first words out of his mouth. Not exactly what we wanted to
hear. It seems “Her”, a brown Chinese goose, had some how got into a torn
up plastic feed sack and it was now tightly wrapped around one of her
legs. We aren’t sure where she got it, because we keep those put up just
because of such situations. Trash is highly dangerous to birds and wildlife.
He said he’d got Her and the other birds in the pen, but he
couldn’t catch Her by himself to get the bag cut off her leg. It needed
to come off asap, because a bird can lose a leg/foot quickly due to lack of
circulation. I was wearing a long skirt so I rushed in to change out of
it and to grab my Carhardt coat (it was already in the 40’s and the wind was
really whipping). Dh changed coats, but ignored my suggestion he take off
his khaki slacks—a decision he later regretted.
Then armed with flashlights we three headed to the
garden/goose pen, aka: the bog. You see dh and ds put the water tubs in
one of the raised beds and as a result of daily watering the raised bed was now
a pond and the middle of this pond stood the diminutive Her. Yes that’s really her
name, she just showed up her one day and for a couple of weeks some one would
say “who is that goose?’ one of us would respond “which goose” and the first
person would point to the little bird and say “Her”, she showed up with “Him”,
who we called Who for awhile as in “Who is that?” Him is also
called Zorro, due to his mask, sometimes around here, but I digress.
The bag around Her’s leg was a pretty sizeable piece of one
and the other geese kept stepping on the dragging debris causing Her to fall
often on her dainty bill. I was worried her leg would get broken before
we got the bag off of it.
None of us had our muck boots on—stupidity I know, but as
any homesteader will tell you, when it’s cold, windy, stone cold dark and you
have an injured critter you don’t always stop to think about things like muck
boots.
Her was determined to stay in the muddy “Pond” and the
ganders who have decided she’s their girl, remember it’s spring and the only
time of year my geese would EVER consider challenging any of us, especially
me. They weren’t too happy at these three humans wanting to “hug” their
girl. Hug is our term for one of us grabbing a goose over their wings and
hugging them up to our body to control them while someone else fixes a wound or
other problem. Dh’s light color pants were soon covered with what we’ll
call mud—it’s a goose pen, think about it.
After about two laps I said “Enough! I’m going in after
Her.” I at least had crocs and old clothes on. As I stepped
into the almost dry shallow end of the “pond” to try and nab her as another
goose, Greystoke, conveniently stood on the bag penning her. All 18
birds took off the opposite direction. Splashing us all royally with the
“mud.” Ds got a huge mouthful of “mud”. To say he was not amused
would be understating it considerably.
Luckily by then dh had got a herding stick, and between the
three of us we were able to corner Her on semi dry land. Ds, still
spewing vile “mud” out of his mouth caught her first with a diving body
tackle, but could only pen Her, not pick Her up. I came in from the other
direction and immediately told Her “It’s Mama, I’m alpha, you pinch, you are
dinner. “ Then I went past the hissing snapping bill and grabbed Her over
the wings to hug her up next to my body in an upright position.
I stood there with the hissing goose as dh fumbled for his
pocket knife and ds climbed up off the soggy ground. Not once did Her try
to pinch me, she KNEW better, even if she was an outsider. She did make a
grab for ds once, but he spoke softly to her and stroked her neck as he shined
the flashlight on her leg for dh. She calmed as soon as he started
talking to her. He has that affect on animals. I’ve seen him with a
humming bird perched on his finger as he quietly talked to it and brought it
out of the sunroom to freedom outside.
As soon as Her got still dh deftly cut the bag free and
examined her leg and foot for injury in case she needed first aid.
Luckily she did not, ds had found the problem early enough.
I then had the guys clear the area so she would have plenty
of room to stretch her wings if she felt the need after the “humans” had
touched her. Ds spoke to her softly as I set her down gently on the
ground and she fled to the safety of her ganders.
I gathered the bag pieces and we left the birds to discuss
the evil humans and console Her for the night. (She was in fine shape this
morning) . Once the bag was properly disposed of it was every man/woman
for themselves. Ds spent considerable time brushing his teeth, gargling,
and rinsing his mouth. Then he and dh laundered their “mud” soaked
clothes. Amazingly enough, I only had the mud on my crocks and those I
rinsed and disinfected quickly.
Ahhhh, spring, mud wrestling in the dark. Who could
ask for a better anniversary. Jan who says her life is NEVER dull in OK
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