Beware Fowl Play

The Stephenville City Park is relatively average. Lots of running space, lots of open grass, a river that probably has some undiagnosed disease floating in it...you know, the works. My dog, Layla thinks this park is just the SHIT, and every time I say a word starting with "P" her radar ears perk up and she starts doing her "walk dance."

One thing the city park also has, are ducks and geese. The ducks are fine, they generally keep to themselves unless you have bread. The geese tend to stay out of you way...unless you get in theirs. Then they turn into big horned demons with red eyes and big flappy wings and honky beaks that breathe fire and have fangs and...did I mention I was terrified of birds?

Call me crazy, but that is horrifying!

I try to take Layla on a walk every day, and about three days a week or so I'll take her to this magical land where she can chase ducks to her leash's extent, fight violently against me to go say hi to other dogs, and jump in front of runners just to laugh doggily when they trip (and sometimes fall).

A couple of days ago, we had an experience that I don't think either of us will forget any time soon.

Ducks are cute. They're cute when you feed them bread, they're cute when they swim, and they're cute when Layla bowls them over then runs away (as she thinks she's playing tag, so far as I can tell). Most times I'll let her almost get a duck, then we'll be on our way to torment the athletes of the Stephenville City Park. Our last trip, Layla decided that mere ducks were no longer enough of a challenge for Super Corgi. She had to take on a goose.

I was walking along by the river looking at my phone, minding my own business. Trying to keep my dog from tripping anyone or eating their picnic (again). Next thing I know, I no longer have a leash in my hand, and my dog is sprinting headlong at the biggest goose I've ever seen. Remember demon bird (see above)? I've met it...and it was trying to kill my dog.

So there I was, in my jeans and (relatively) nice jacket, trying to decide if it was worth saving Layla from a few bites to brave the mud (remember, jacket) and the FREAKISHLY BIG TERRIFYING MEAN SQUAWKY BIRD THAT MIGHT KILL ME AND TEAR OUT MY HEART FOR SACRIFICE. Obviously, I chose to tiptoe forward, thinking that maybe if I was sneaky I could grab the leash and drag Layla out of the line of fire. I did just that, but then...

The damn thing started chasing us! In all of its squawky wing flappy glory, it waddleflipflapfloped (which is a much faster gait than it sounds) after us, gaining with every flap of those giant leathery dragon wings.I could feel the fire breath on my back. I'm pretty sure it singed some of the hair off of the back of my head. I bent down to pick up a stick to throw back at it (don't judge, it could have killed me), and nailed it square in the...grass two feet to the left. I never had good aim.

With the car in sight, Layla and I found our second wind, and leaped to safety, locking the bird (I'm telling you, it was the size of a horse) out. It stood outside the car for ten minutes (yes, I sat there that long), watching us. Just waiting for us to get back out.

We braved the park today. Fortunately, we didn't see the geese. Something tells me that little shit is going to hold a grudge.