So driving home today, cresting a hill on Highway 14, I caught a glimpse of what appeared to be a bunch of birds flying overhead. As I got closer, I realized they were geese, and there were a lot of them. No, I mean A LOT of them.
What had initially appeared to be one large mass was actually many small groups (you know, the "V" they fly in) flying together. As I got closer still, I realized just how many of these groups there were. Not 10 or 20 or 30 or even 50. I lost count, and at 70 miles per hour I thought I had better return my attention to the road. There were literally hundreds of Vs (is there a scientific name for that?) amassed into one large flying brigade.
When I used to take our dog to a park frequented by a lot of geese, it was hard to keep her away from the goose poop. I mean, who DOESn't love goose poop, right? So I imagined her looking up at this spectacular event and salivating. May she rest in peace.
I gave away the last of the rescue dog supplies today - a big huge box of milkbones. After Buckley's long adventure with us, my husband was a little frayed. We had brief custody of Dixie, and then decided that it would be best if we discontinued our fostering. I would love to keep doing it, but my husband....not so much.
The woman who gave Buckley his new home was just the absolute perfect match for him. I have no doubt that he would not have been adopted from the shelter he had been in, because of his, um, "energy" so I'm glad we were fortunate enough to give him a new life.