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MY BLOG: Every day for a year.
Day 51. ‘Percival’s revenge’
Hot on the heels of my bull tango story, the following week I put the knowledge gained about cars to good/bad use, for which I am repentant depending on what the statute of limitations are on vandalism.
Percival was my beloved gander. More dog than my dogs and a happy member of the pack. Geese, as most people know, are a law unto themselves. Our relationship was very symbiotic, he guarded me ferociously and I gave him one hundred percent his own way. The farm behind ours was a mixture of cattle and veggie, and the owner was tending the fields when Percy went to visit. All was Percy’s to command as far as the eye could see and beyond. He’d taken a fancy to the potatoes that tried to hide from his sight, and he was having none of it. Boring through the ground with pinpoint accuracy, I watched in amusement as he resurfaced triumphantly and covered in dirt. The owner, apparently not sharing in my joy became increasingly agitated at Percy’s presence. Sticks, rocks, and other projectiles skimmed across the dirt mounds accompanied by vocal abuse. My nine-year-old container could barely hold the indignant fury at bay, so with a shovel in hand I charged into the fray. Sliding oh so carefully through the barbed wire fence (lesson learned 🙂 ) I landed securely on the other side, then took off with a vengeance. Unperturbed by my presence, the owner straddled his tractor, ignited the engine and headed straight towards Percival. My rage quickly turned to horror, as I watched this gargantuan nemesis zero in on its target. Dropping my implement of battle, I ran as fast as my legs could bare yelling at Percy to move. Ignoring me, as was his way, he did finally raise his head and narrow his gaze to the oncoming disaster. Being the ornery creatures they are, he took great umbrage at being challenged and moved to meet his adversary head-on. From behind the massive wheels, all I could see was an explosion of white feathers that floated in a surreal fashion through the air, my heart sank as I frantically called his name and ran to his side. Injured but alive, I scooped him up under a hail of aggression from the owner and bolted home. Assured by the vet he would be okay in a few days, I returned home with my parents. Whilst they discussed how they would handle things the ‘adult’ way, I had already made my own plans. I was not a trouble maker as a kid, I was and remain fairly composed and even-tempered, but I was absolutely livid. As the household became still for the night, I stealthily crept from my bedroom window and up the field. A tiny flashlight in hand, I made my way into the barn that housed the ‘geeseslayer.’ Fueled by revenge, I was eventually able to remove the truck’s rust covered fuel cap. Unable to spy a water tap I opted for handfuls of sand, which unbeknown to me at the time was far more problematic than water. Satisfied I’d given the owner a few hours of irritation, I carefully covered my tracks and returned to the safety of my bed. Waking the next morning to a bit of kerfuffle on the front doorstep, I peered out from behind the curtain to witness my parents vehemently defending my innocence to the owner of the tractor and a police officer. I had no concept of plausible deniability at that point in my life, but it was certainly working in my favour. I tottered out in my pajamas, looking the angel that I wasn’t. “Sweetheart, do you know anything about the man’s tractor?” I stared him in the eyes, still angry and vengeful. “No” I responded politely. The policeman squatted down a little and smiled at me. “I believe he ran over your goose?” I wanted to cry and chuck a tantrum, but just calmly said, “he did.” Standing upright and placing the note pad securely away in his top pocket, he remarked, ” well sir, I’d suggest in future you don’t run over the little girl’s pets.” With a guiding arm Mr. ‘destructa’ truck was escorted off our property, and I never clapt eyes on him again. The property was sold shortly afterward, nothing to do with me I am sure, and Percival returned to his rightful place as lord of the manor.
Thanks for listening.