I was the Cookie Monster.
Sorry for the off center scan but you get the point. Notice the coat and the obvious rosy cheeks? I have a memory of my mom yelling at my dad for Trick-or-Treating me to the point of frostbite. I also remember falling and spilling my candy all over the snow covered front yard and a cockerspaniel eating some of it. Other than that, I only remember sweating in my plastic mask.
Happy Halloween!
For anyone who knows me personally they are fully aware of my irrational fears. Am I scared to swim with sharks? No. Can I watch the movie, The Exorcist at 2am and sleep fine. Yes. Will I hug a frothing pitbull? Of course! But somethings I just can’t grasp and like a typical human, what we can’t understand we fear. My new irrational fear is wild turkeys.
If you are a first time visitor to my blog let me explain. I have recently moved from the hustling bustling city life to far north Idaho where I live in a cabin-like house on a mountain. Everyday has new and exciting challenges like trying to avoid hitting moose on the winding gravel road to retrieving well water. I am loving every minute of it but I will tell you, there are certain things up here that I am unsure of.
Now sure, there are bear, cougar, Indian burial grounds (just up the road 😐 ) and perhaps an occasional shit shot hunter that mistakes runners for deer. But none of those have the audacity to gang up on me in my own backyard like the gang of wild turkeys. I know there are far worse things like what I have already stated but when I went out back on Saturday, these stupid birds charged me! Can you believe that?
As a 30 year old male that still believes he can be rough and tough, I refused to run back into the house. I calmly turned and walked, fast, back into the safety of the house. But i didn’t realise turkeys can also fly. I felt the feathers hit the back of my head and that’s when I took off. Maybe screaming. I made it in the door and looked out the window to see them gathered as if to say, “Come on out! We got all day!”. This pissed me off. It would be different if it was a bear or a mountain lion but these were birds.
I don’t own a fire arm because, well, I don’t hunt. There isn’t a reason to own a killing devise if you don’t plan on killing. But I do have a lucky football and that was my weapon of choice. I opened the door, walked to the corner of the porch and threw a perfect spiral right at the main tom and missed, throwing my football off the side of the mountain. Mother fucker! I really did, as you can see my backyard drops off to the base of Hauser mountain. The turkeys looked off the edge and back to me as if to say, “nice arm, Marino.” I went back inside, defeated.
Turkeys are just awful. They look like their heads are inside out and they don’t ‘gobble’ like you would thing. They sound like a demonic Hamburgler. “Robble Robble”. There is a reason that they are not in a flock or a gaggle but travel in a gang. So all in all I give wild turkey both middle fingers as now they they are my least favorite in the animal kingdom. I even Googled a story that proves turkey’s suck. I found this in Field and Stream.
Between five and 10 large male turkeys, or toms — apparently a little giddy with the onset of turkey breeding season — have been bullying postal workers as they make their rounds, pecking at them and even trying to rough them up with the sharp spurs on their legs. One of the birds launched itself through the open door of a mail truck and scratched the driver.
Eric Lobner, regional wildlife program supervisor for the state Department of Natural Resources, is on the case, investigating the turkey gang.
“They are being threatened by the turkeys, ” said Lobner, who received a call from Wilhite about the situation.
Lobner said other residents should not be too worried about marauding bands of wild turkeys in the streets. He said this particular group of toms has a reputation and has actually been a problem in the past at John Muir Elementary School, chasing school children around the playground and even pecking at the doors after the students were rushed inside the school.
See? I’m not a total Nancy boy. There are documented cases of turkeys gone bad. But I refuse to be tormented so the next day I went outside and sat down with Kootenee. We hung out for a while but I could tell we were being watched. And soon there was a familiar “Robble” in the woods and I turned to Kootenee and told him to get them. Kootenee took off for the safety of the porch. Such an ass!
So here I sit, stalked by wild turkeys and slowly going mad. I imagine I may exercise my 2nd Amendment before my time here in Idaho is done. There maybe a post in the next few weeks with pictures of me in a full feather jacket and a necklace made of beaks. So, just be prepared. Now I will leave you with me in my mind, here on a mountain.
All work and no play makes Will a dull boy. All work and no play makes Will a dull boy. All work and no play makes Will a dull boy. All work and no play makes Will a dull boy. All work and no play makes Will a dull boy. All work and no play makes Will a dull boy. All work and no play makes Will a dull boy. All work and no play makes Will a dull boy. All work and not play makes Will as dull boy. All work and no play makes Will a dull boy. All work and no play makes Will a dull boy. All work and no play makes Will a dull boy.
All work and no play makes Will a dull boy. All work and no play makes Will a dull boy. All work and no play makes Will a dull boy. All work and no play makes Will a dull boy. All work and no play makes Will a dull boy. All work and no play makes Will a dull boy. All work and no play makes Will a dull boy. All work and no play makes Will a dull boy. All work and no play makes Will a dull boy. All work and no play makes Will a dull boy. All work and no play makes Will a dull boy. All work and no play makes Will a dull boy. All work and no play makes Will a dull boy. All work and no play makes Will a dull boy. All work and no play makes Will a dull boy. All work and no play makes Will a dull boy. All work and no play makes Will a dull boy. All work and no play makes Will a dull boy. All work and no play makes Will a dull boy. All work and no play makes Will a dull boy.
All work and no play makes Will a dull boy.
All work and no play makes Will a dull boy. All work and no play makes Will a dull boy. All work and no play makes Will a dull boy. All work and no play makes Will a dull boy. All work and no play makes Will a dull boy. All work and no play makes Will a dull boy. All work and no play makes Will a dull boy. All work and no play makes Will a dull boy. All work and no play makes Will a dull boy. all work and no play make Will a dull boy. All wotrk and no play makes Will a dull boy. All work and no play makes Willa dull boy. All work and no play makes Will a dull boy. All work and no play makes Will a dull boy.
All Work
And No play
Makes Will A
Dull boy.
EDIT: Stop over and say Happy Birthday to Social Pariah! She is turning almost 30 today! Happy Birthday Mandy!
So after the pooping on the shoe incident, I let bygones be bygones. I buried the hatchet. I let that ship sail. Two cats in a tree is better that one in a pot. What? Yeah. Anyway I made it a point to win over the dog that so outwardly despised me. And it only took a bag of Beggin Strips, 10 cookies and a few cheese slices. Here is a photo breakdown of how I became one with the animal kingdom.
Notice the treat at the bottom of the picture? It took almost 30 minutes of pacing for Kootenee to decide that it was worth the risk to eat it. All my high pitched baby talk never did anything but cause him to cock his head right and left. The key to a dogs heart is through the stomach.
So this is how it went for an hour or so. I would drop a treat closer and he would inch cautiously, nab the cookie and bolt to the corner of the porch. He chewed while he eyeballed me, making sure I didn’t make any advancements. I did feel pretty good that he was comfortable enough to nap for a while. I stayed seated, drink a beer and texting, patiently waiting for the next opportunity of a friendly exchange. And when my attention was distracted I looked to my left to see this:
This took me by surprise to say the least. I sat there in shock that he was able to creep so close without me noticing. The worst part was the fact I had run out of treats. I sure would hate to disappoint after he gambled to come so close. So I took the opportunity and reached my hand out to pet him. AND HE ATE MY ARM!
Just kidding. No, he actually allowed me to rub behind his ears and he even put his head down on my leg as I pet him. Talk about a 180!I didn’t risk giving him a hug but I’ll take a good pet on the head. He’s a good boy.
Now there is a happy dog! Do you see the smile? Yep, we are pals and it’s a good thing too. It get’s lonely on the mountain and it nice not have a source of contention when it’s not needed. I stayed out as long as possible but here it gets cold at night and I had a baseball game calling me inside. I felt a little sad when I left him outside. I mean look at him.
Poor guy. Oh well, pretty soon his owner came home and it was his real dinner time. At times I can hear the goings on upstairs and I did feel a little guilty when Kootenee’s owner yelled, “Oh Kootenee, no!” I just hope all those treats didn’t lead to explosive diarrhea on the couch.
I consider myself a friend to the animal kingdom. There has never been a monetary donation I have not made when asked, either for shelters or endangered species fundraisers. I have had pets and just because I don’t currently reside with one does not mean I don’t want one. In all fairness to them I can not bring myself to have one based on my busy schedule. That is why I was so excited when I got this place and found out there was a dog already living here. His name is Kootanee, after the county we live in.
Isn’t he cute? Well wait, Kootanee and I have a love hate relationship: I love him and he hates me. In my entire life I have never had a dog who didn’t like me. It is starting to give me a complex! I even bought a bag of Beggin’ Strips and made a trail from his side of the house to my front door but all for not. I did, however, feed a few raccoons.
The guy who rents this place and Kootanee’s owner thinks that a delivery guy must have hit or pepper sprayed him as a puppy leaving him skiddish towards any male figures. Not even my high pitch “HEY BIG GUY” voice broke the ice. I have even left “cookies” outside of my door in hopes he would use me for food, but he eats and scampers off.
I was a little bummed at the beginning. There were thoughts of us hanging out on the front porch. I would sing Warren Zevon’s ‘Werewolves Of London” and Kootanee would be back up with an “Aroooooo” before the werewolves part. I would carve a pumpkin for Halloween and he would eat the innards. You know, common best buddy stuff. But not anymore.
I left for the weekend to visit Seattle and a mystery person on my blogroll, which you will soon find out next post. I accidentally left my running shoes on the front steps but I wasn’t concerned. Hell, I don’t even lock the door. But when I came home, guess what I found?
The dog shit on my shoes!!! Are you serious? Have you ever heard of such a thing? After all the treats and fairy talk, that furry asshole took a dump on my running shoes! This was not an accidental poop. My shoes were on steps so he had to actually back his ass up, up the steps, to shit on them. I’m dumbfounded! There have been plenty of times dog shit was under my shoes but never on top.
I sure hope that this winter isn’t so harsh that cabin fever sets in. Because I call first dibs on eating the dog.
I have to admit that even though I rip on the culture here in Idaho it has really increased my desire to write about some of the absurdities as if I was Crusoe keeping a journal. My phone is full of various pictures and notes that have to be seen to be believed. I actually sat next to an older couple the other night and the lady took out her teeth to smoke a cigarette. She told the bartender that she just soaked them before they came out and she wanted to keep them white. Fuck a duck! To be honest, they did look pretty white on a bevnap sitting on the bar. Had I been drinking more I probably would have put them in her ashtray when no one was looking because, well, I’m an asshole like that.
I know the picture above is blurry but this is where I was on Wednesday night. It was karaoke night at the bowling alley and more importantly it was “no smoking night” so I could give my jeans and shirts a break from having to practically burn them when I get home from the wreak of smoke. Notice that it is a David Allen Coe song? Yep, that little ditty was played no more than 30 times. And no one appreciated KISS’s “Strutter” either.
All in all there are some pretty good singers here in Idaho. HA! I can’t even type that with a straight face. The whole night sounded like a third grade trumpet recital. If I didn’t no better I would believe a gaggle of geese where circling over head confused on whether to fly south or mate on the cars in the parking lot. The real funny part is watching all the people support one another as each person butchered the song of their choice. I witnessed a few standing ovations and some “I just want to thank my Mama” speeches.
I really wished there was a Milo there.
By the way, what do you think he has in his pockets? My theory is Milo is packing dinner rolls from the “Singles Potluck/Karaoke Night”. It is plausible.
Anyway, did you know that zucchini grows larger here too? The bartender showed me her award winning zucchini and I have to tell you, i now feel a little inadequate.
Make sure you come back because this weekend I am doing my 2nd annual Fall Beer Review. It’s a great excuse to get loaded, carve something and possibly go to the emergency room. I’ll be back tomorrow. Me with 10 toes and 9 fingers.
Casserole of Disaster 