Mowing the grass has never been one of my most favorite parts of life. While some may use the word enjoyable to describe how they feel, I would pass on that word. Exciting! No, I would normally not choose that one either. Again, I would normally not use that word. Here is a story of one of those abnormal “mowing the grass” days.
This occurred about one and a half years ago. It all started as I was riding along the Alice Road part of our yard about to turn toward the Henery Drive part of the yard when I caught something out of my right eye’s peripheral vision. Our family dog, affectionately called Chloe the Great, is flying across our yard toward Henery Drive. I turn to see what she is after and it became one of those slow motion moments. My head is following her every gallop, my sight set on her graceful strides, and then it happened. She leaps in the air at about the halfway point on Henery Drive into our neighbor’s yard and the next thing I see, feathers all in the air.
Immediately I said something to myself like, “For the love of Pete, Chloe has done caught a turkey.” Then, the bird tried to take off, but Chloe’s vertical jump is pretty impressive and she takes off herself and brought it down. More feathers are in the air! As I watch this unfold I don’t know what to think. On one hand I feel sorry for the bird, and on the other hand I was thinking, “Way to go Chloe, that’s my girl!” Chloe the Great has struck. On to scene 2.
Chloe comes back across the road into our yard pridefully strutting with this bird in her mouth. I started yelling at Chloe, “No, No, No, Chloe.” At some point, I got off the mower and start walking towards her and she stops in the middle of our yard. She first lays the bird down and then lies down beside it. I draw closer and see how big this bird is and then see that this is no turkey, it’s a dead-gum beautiful Canadian goose. It’s missing a few feathers but still a beautiful bird. A dead, beautiful bird I believe.
I don’t know what to do. I go inside and tell my family and some friends who were at our house what just happened. I then look for a garbage bag to put the goose in. I figured I would wrap it up, put it in the freezer and ask someone what I should do with it. I also am thinking I need to hide the evidence because I am sure Chloe has broken some federal law, an EPA regulation, or some Obamacare tax will be levied for this action. Google earth has caught it all and Chloe will go to dog prison. Now for scene 3,
We go outside and call Chloe away from the dead goose so I can gather it up. All of our attention is focused on Chloe and we get her about 15 yards away from the flightless goose from Canada. As I turn to go back to the goose, the dead bird is getting up! Why the thing is not dead at all, or if it is, it is a part of the walking dead. Zombie geese! I’m sorry, back to the story. The bird starts heading back toward the lake across the street. Now grant it, the bird is wobbling back and forth like it is drunk. However, it’s moving. Crosses the street, goes into the pasture and down to the lake.
I like to think this bird went back and warned the other geese to stay away, don’t land anywhere close to Henery Drive, bad things could happen.
Chloe? Chloe, I believe, was doing what a good dog does, protecting her family from an intruder, even if it was a harmless Canadian goose.
What lessons can we take from this?
1. Mowing the grass may have something in store you never saw coming. The mundane can suddenly turn into a magnificent occasion.
2. There are going to be days that are “Chloe the Great” days. You accomplish great feats and feel good about your accomplishments. Even if the audience is yourself and a guy on a riding mower.
3. Some days you end up in the wrong place at the wrong time. You have a day like that goose had. The good news is you are alive. Wobbly? Yes. Stunned? Yes. Shook up from a hard day, perilous month, or year? Yes. Yet, you are on your way. You may never be the same but by the grace of God, you are on your way.
P.S. Here a pic of Chloe the Great and her temporary catch.
- your way.