IF I COULD TALK TO THE ANIMALS
When I lived in Kentucky I lived in the true country. The town had a McDonalds, Subway and pizza parlor where I saw a 20-year old mother blow smoke into her newborn's face. There were two dollar stores, and then there was "downtown" which consisted of a police station where all the cops smoked inside when I went to get my car inspected, and city hall. That was it. The rest was rural homes and empty land. I lived in a log cabin on five acres and enountered Japanese wasps playing with my eyelashes, a calf rescue which touched my heart, and witnessed my mother's dog bring back a cow spine and skull on two separate occasions when playing in the woods. I thought I was used to strange, rural animal encounters. So imagine my surprise to move somewhere that is small, but by no means "rural", and having my own wildlife exucrsions.
Soon after I moved to High Point, I was listening to a morning radio show based out of Greensboro. The morning host was talking about how he'd hit a deer that morning on his way to work and felt awful about it. People were calling in sharing their own "I hit a deer" stories when this strange woman called in. She spoke about how her and her husband were driving one night and a deer jumped out and they hit it. They got out of the car to check it out and the deer was still alive, but suffering. In her own words she said, "Well, my husband hadn't brought back that much deer meat from hunting season that year, so I said 'Honey, this deer hit US, so we're going to eat this deer.' The deer lay flailing about and wasn't dying, so they went to their trunk to get jumper cables. They then proceeded to strangle the deer until it died, shoved the corpse into the trunk, took it home and ate it.
I was aghast at the concept that someone would 1) strangle a deer with jumper cables and 2) then shove it into their trunk to take home and eat it. I was wondering what the fuck I'd gotten myself into moving here? Only time would tell.
As mentioned in previous posts I had a squirrel suicide dive into my wheel only to find him laying on the side of the road one paw clutching his hear, one paw reaching to the Heavens; had a pygmy goat make the same suicide attempt; and endured a wild turkey sitting in my mother's window at the office. This place is slightly creepy, yet strangely entertaining. Then the other night it started up again.
Monday night my mother and I worked late. The printer is in her office and I was standing there waiting for a presentation to print out when I first saw the man's head pass by her window. I jumped back, shocked. The man then passed around the corner and into her other window. He walked very slowly looking down. His torso revealed itself, as did his hands and that's when I saw it...a knife! This man was walking around the perimeter of our office holding a fucking knife!
"Mom! That guy is holding a knife!"
Before I go further you need to know that we work in front of a Muslim mosque. No biggie. I don't think anything odd of it. Next door to us is a mini Muslim commune. It looks like a house from the front, but it goes back about 1/2 mile long. They keep adding onto it and the kids sometimes run around with their dogs in our yard. They also have chickens and roosters that make their way onto our office land. Then I notice he's not just walking around with a knife, but is stalking the wild turkey that sat in my mom's window a week or two prior. He is slow and sly, holding his knife as the wild turkey investigates his surroundings.
So I make my knife exclamation and my mom laughs at me. "Oh Heather. I'm sure it's not a knife."
I remind her of the time we were in Myrtle Beach a few years ago and I saw a fin swimming about 100 feet behind her, and was cussing at her to get out of the water. She swore I saw a "wave" and I was muttering, "Get out of the fucking water." She finallly did. Everyone else saw the fin and the masses ran out of the water onto the beach as more swimmers saw the fin. The fin happened to be connected to a dolphin that performed a lovely flip in front of the now beached crowds, but STILL...I wasn't exagerating. Once again we were in that same place.
"Mom! LOOK!" I yelled.
She turned and gasped. "Holy shit! It IS a knife!"
The man who we assumed was our commune neighbor was stalking what was possibly the dinner he raised. I got very upset by the knife-wielding neighbor stalking the turkey and said I was going to pound on the windows, like THAT would stop him. We watched him follow the turkey to the mosque. They rounded the corner and neither has reappeared since. I'm hoping if he got the turkey, that the turkey also got him. It's the former vegetarian in me.
So today my mom calls me on the phone. "Come here now! Animals!"
I run into her office and look out the window. There before me is four or five baby turkeys! It's the cutest thing ever and I'm shocked. There is no mama around. I grab the camera and run outisde and start shooting pictures. They are the cutest things ever, yet I am fearful that Mama survived the Muslim and may attack at any moment. I snap a couple of shots and hear rustling and jump, turning around to check out the area around me. No Mama turkey.
"She's dead!" my mind screams. I counter back, "No she's not. She's sleeping somewhere."
I take a few more shots, flipping around convinced that Mama is going to attack at a moment's notice. Alas there is no Mama and I am sad.
I go back into the office and get started downloading the baby turkey pictures. A moment later my bosses' wife walks in announcing there is more wildlife in the carport.
"There's a rooster in the desk in the carport!" She announces.
I know this rooster. I've seen and heard it many times before. In fact, on Monday, the turkey killing day, I pulled up to a rooster in the bushes that then came out to my car. I was afraid that if I got out of my car that it would peck me. I beeped my mom on the Nextel telling her there was a rooster outside my car. She laughed at me and asked what she wanted me to do? So I honked. I honked at that rooster and made the cock move. He started doing the pigeon towards the bushes and I ran. I ran like the dickens.
So upon hearing the rooster is in the desk, I grab the camera and ran outside. Damned bird was in the desk hiding behind some cardboard. I snapped his butt twice. He wouldn't come out. So I started making chicken noises, but he didn't move. What would make him come out? So there in the carport I squawed "Cock-a-doodle-dooooooooo!" He froze. I now understand he froze out of "She's a fucking moron" rather than fear. I gave up and walked in.
I'm not sure what will be next, but I'm rooting for a pony to appear in the toilet.
Soon after I moved to High Point, I was listening to a morning radio show based out of Greensboro. The morning host was talking about how he'd hit a deer that morning on his way to work and felt awful about it. People were calling in sharing their own "I hit a deer" stories when this strange woman called in. She spoke about how her and her husband were driving one night and a deer jumped out and they hit it. They got out of the car to check it out and the deer was still alive, but suffering. In her own words she said, "Well, my husband hadn't brought back that much deer meat from hunting season that year, so I said 'Honey, this deer hit US, so we're going to eat this deer.' The deer lay flailing about and wasn't dying, so they went to their trunk to get jumper cables. They then proceeded to strangle the deer until it died, shoved the corpse into the trunk, took it home and ate it.
I was aghast at the concept that someone would 1) strangle a deer with jumper cables and 2) then shove it into their trunk to take home and eat it. I was wondering what the fuck I'd gotten myself into moving here? Only time would tell.
As mentioned in previous posts I had a squirrel suicide dive into my wheel only to find him laying on the side of the road one paw clutching his hear, one paw reaching to the Heavens; had a pygmy goat make the same suicide attempt; and endured a wild turkey sitting in my mother's window at the office. This place is slightly creepy, yet strangely entertaining. Then the other night it started up again.
Monday night my mother and I worked late. The printer is in her office and I was standing there waiting for a presentation to print out when I first saw the man's head pass by her window. I jumped back, shocked. The man then passed around the corner and into her other window. He walked very slowly looking down. His torso revealed itself, as did his hands and that's when I saw it...a knife! This man was walking around the perimeter of our office holding a fucking knife!
"Mom! That guy is holding a knife!"
Before I go further you need to know that we work in front of a Muslim mosque. No biggie. I don't think anything odd of it. Next door to us is a mini Muslim commune. It looks like a house from the front, but it goes back about 1/2 mile long. They keep adding onto it and the kids sometimes run around with their dogs in our yard. They also have chickens and roosters that make their way onto our office land. Then I notice he's not just walking around with a knife, but is stalking the wild turkey that sat in my mom's window a week or two prior. He is slow and sly, holding his knife as the wild turkey investigates his surroundings.
So I make my knife exclamation and my mom laughs at me. "Oh Heather. I'm sure it's not a knife."
I remind her of the time we were in Myrtle Beach a few years ago and I saw a fin swimming about 100 feet behind her, and was cussing at her to get out of the water. She swore I saw a "wave" and I was muttering, "Get out of the fucking water." She finallly did. Everyone else saw the fin and the masses ran out of the water onto the beach as more swimmers saw the fin. The fin happened to be connected to a dolphin that performed a lovely flip in front of the now beached crowds, but STILL...I wasn't exagerating. Once again we were in that same place.
"Mom! LOOK!" I yelled.
She turned and gasped. "Holy shit! It IS a knife!"
The man who we assumed was our commune neighbor was stalking what was possibly the dinner he raised. I got very upset by the knife-wielding neighbor stalking the turkey and said I was going to pound on the windows, like THAT would stop him. We watched him follow the turkey to the mosque. They rounded the corner and neither has reappeared since. I'm hoping if he got the turkey, that the turkey also got him. It's the former vegetarian in me.
So today my mom calls me on the phone. "Come here now! Animals!"
I run into her office and look out the window. There before me is four or five baby turkeys! It's the cutest thing ever and I'm shocked. There is no mama around. I grab the camera and run outisde and start shooting pictures. They are the cutest things ever, yet I am fearful that Mama survived the Muslim and may attack at any moment. I snap a couple of shots and hear rustling and jump, turning around to check out the area around me. No Mama turkey.
"She's dead!" my mind screams. I counter back, "No she's not. She's sleeping somewhere."
I take a few more shots, flipping around convinced that Mama is going to attack at a moment's notice. Alas there is no Mama and I am sad.
I go back into the office and get started downloading the baby turkey pictures. A moment later my bosses' wife walks in announcing there is more wildlife in the carport.
"There's a rooster in the desk in the carport!" She announces.
I know this rooster. I've seen and heard it many times before. In fact, on Monday, the turkey killing day, I pulled up to a rooster in the bushes that then came out to my car. I was afraid that if I got out of my car that it would peck me. I beeped my mom on the Nextel telling her there was a rooster outside my car. She laughed at me and asked what she wanted me to do? So I honked. I honked at that rooster and made the cock move. He started doing the pigeon towards the bushes and I ran. I ran like the dickens.
So upon hearing the rooster is in the desk, I grab the camera and ran outside. Damned bird was in the desk hiding behind some cardboard. I snapped his butt twice. He wouldn't come out. So I started making chicken noises, but he didn't move. What would make him come out? So there in the carport I squawed "Cock-a-doodle-dooooooooo!" He froze. I now understand he froze out of "She's a fucking moron" rather than fear. I gave up and walked in.
I'm not sure what will be next, but I'm rooting for a pony to appear in the toilet.
