Thursday, March 21, 2013


March 21, 2013

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

No comments:

Post a Comment