A Pack of Starving Wild Dogs

  So, the other day I was rollerblading at the parkway. I sometimes stop after work if the weather is right. It's a nice 4 mile skate and if it's not too windy or too buggy, it's a lot of fun. At one point I skated past a flock of geese off the side of the path. They watched me skate past.

On the return trip, they were waiting, watching. I got flustered by all those staring beady little eyes. I hit a rock! I lost my balance! I went flying! Right into the middle of the entire flock! It was terrifying - they were all over me - flapping their wings, pecking and biting and honking. I thought I was a goner.

Wait. No, not really. Sorry to scare you. But as I skated past them, that's what went through my mind. What if I were to trip right there and fall into the flock of them. That's what they were waiting for. Would they part like the red sea and make way for my falling body? Sidestep skittishly out of the way? Would they step in after the fact to see if I was OK? Or would they descend on me like a pack of starving wild dogs and peck me until I was bloody. Slam me with their powerful wings and honk at me continuously until I begged their forgiveness? I haven't had any serious run-ins with geese, but I'm guessing it's the latter.

I skate on the far side of the path now - very carefully. I don't want my imagination to prove me right.


Honk!