There’s always at least one good laugh in each of these columns. The best ones are those that creep up on you unexpectedly. In this case, it was the reference to Flaco’s possible search for a mate, especially the last clause.
Respectfully disagree Mr.K! I want Flaco to go down like a freaking owl /soldier!! One rat caught in his beak and and one rat ,poisonous or not,in each claw!! If he dies after that,well,so be it! At least he died like an OWL,not like an owl!!
My daughter plays administrative assistant in my medical affairs. My sense of feeling geriatric sometimes bothers me, but she insists she just delegates; I do all the heavy lifting by showing up for appointments which can at times be tedious and unpleasant. I do my part to assist the sixty trillion cells in my body that work hard to keep me well. My daughter travels a lot, and I went through a season where I was falling a lot. So she got me a Lifeline device, a walker if I feel like I’m on shaky ground and I go to physical therapy, which I’m working really hard at. My balance and core strength have improved immeasurably and I get stronger every day. Falling is a thing of the past. Over the Christmas holiday I could barely stand without collapsing. Now I take my dog for a brisk walk every morning. Collectively my daughter and I have so many wonderful friends who have stepped up to the plate when I could barely lift the bat. Friends willing to stop everything on a dime if I need help as I would do for them. This makes me a very wealthy woman. And it’s not just when help is needed, which I make an effort to minimize. We also do a lot of fun things together.
When my daughter was old enough to go out and play on her own, I didn’t keep her in the house because I was afraid if I did she would get hit by a car crossing the street. And once in a great while she would come home crying all bloody from a nasty fall. Once two kids ripped her little pocketbook out of her hands and I didn’t hear her screaming because I was vacuuming. And she’s been Type 1 diabetic since she was ten and in the beginning there were too many times when her blood sugar would drop dangerously low and she would pass out. Now, my daughter is not an owl who escaped from the zoo. Flaco was well cared for, but once he escaped his instincts took over and he started figuring things out for himself. I think he’s probably happier too. Unlike Flaco, my daughter’s earlier years were hard at times. There were things I couldn’t protect her from. But she figured out how to give herself insulin injections by the time she was ten and a half and she compensated for my lacking as a mother by becoming a strong, independent, smart well balanced adult. Right now Flaco can freely fly higher and faster than he ever could in a cage. He got a running start in captivity and now he’s moving along at his own pace. I think if you could ask him what he prefers, I think he’d elect risk over caged safety. Yeah. That’s what I think he would say.
Thank you from the doldrums of February where cabin fever and the scratchy nature of too much togetherness can feel confining. I can only imagine that freedom with all its inherent dangers is preferable to confinement. So say the residents of NYC. It is impossible to behold the notion of beauty and a hideous end in the same moment. I like your match making plan and vote for love.
In my next life I mean to be a pigeon in Manhattan: lofty perches, a wealth of tasty scraps, endless entertainment, an island home surrounded by salt water, a mate for life and, importantly, the comfort and cooing conversation of a flock. I wish for Flaco a Gladys in the urban wild.
Knowing that your daughter is surrounded by friends and confidants is a comfort to you, even though she is far away from your watchful eye. It is amazing how even though our children are grown and living a life of their own, a parent worries about their welfare. I would imagine that the creator of us must have the same concern over our welfare even though we are within their omnipresent sight. I guess worrying is a part of a creator's job, whether it is a parent or a deity.
I bet Flacco is the Quarterback of Owls. Go Birds!!! My co-worker doesn't believe in confinement in zoos and preserves. That's her nature-orientated side. She would rather Gladys find a new habitat than a death by rat poisoning. Ha. Thanks for this conversation. Central Park is a lovely community with friends & other creatures.
This one is just beautiful! All is right with the world. YOU compelled me to leave a comment to let YOU know what a wonderful difference you bring to the world.
There’s always at least one good laugh in each of these columns. The best ones are those that creep up on you unexpectedly. In this case, it was the reference to Flaco’s possible search for a mate, especially the last clause.
The only thing better would have been your voice reading it to me.
Respectfully disagree Mr.K! I want Flaco to go down like a freaking owl /soldier!! One rat caught in his beak and and one rat ,poisonous or not,in each claw!! If he dies after that,well,so be it! At least he died like an OWL,not like an owl!!
Betty and I will add a prayer to our morning meditation that Flaco comes home. It would seem to be the best. Thanks Garrison. RR
“A wise old owl sat in an oak;
The more he saw the less he spoke;
The less he spoke the more he heard:
Why can't we all be like that bird?”
I trust the bird’s judgment.
Enjoy your freedom Flacco!
My daughter plays administrative assistant in my medical affairs. My sense of feeling geriatric sometimes bothers me, but she insists she just delegates; I do all the heavy lifting by showing up for appointments which can at times be tedious and unpleasant. I do my part to assist the sixty trillion cells in my body that work hard to keep me well. My daughter travels a lot, and I went through a season where I was falling a lot. So she got me a Lifeline device, a walker if I feel like I’m on shaky ground and I go to physical therapy, which I’m working really hard at. My balance and core strength have improved immeasurably and I get stronger every day. Falling is a thing of the past. Over the Christmas holiday I could barely stand without collapsing. Now I take my dog for a brisk walk every morning. Collectively my daughter and I have so many wonderful friends who have stepped up to the plate when I could barely lift the bat. Friends willing to stop everything on a dime if I need help as I would do for them. This makes me a very wealthy woman. And it’s not just when help is needed, which I make an effort to minimize. We also do a lot of fun things together.
When my daughter was old enough to go out and play on her own, I didn’t keep her in the house because I was afraid if I did she would get hit by a car crossing the street. And once in a great while she would come home crying all bloody from a nasty fall. Once two kids ripped her little pocketbook out of her hands and I didn’t hear her screaming because I was vacuuming. And she’s been Type 1 diabetic since she was ten and in the beginning there were too many times when her blood sugar would drop dangerously low and she would pass out. Now, my daughter is not an owl who escaped from the zoo. Flaco was well cared for, but once he escaped his instincts took over and he started figuring things out for himself. I think he’s probably happier too. Unlike Flaco, my daughter’s earlier years were hard at times. There were things I couldn’t protect her from. But she figured out how to give herself insulin injections by the time she was ten and a half and she compensated for my lacking as a mother by becoming a strong, independent, smart well balanced adult. Right now Flaco can freely fly higher and faster than he ever could in a cage. He got a running start in captivity and now he’s moving along at his own pace. I think if you could ask him what he prefers, I think he’d elect risk over caged safety. Yeah. That’s what I think he would say.
Thank you from the doldrums of February where cabin fever and the scratchy nature of too much togetherness can feel confining. I can only imagine that freedom with all its inherent dangers is preferable to confinement. So say the residents of NYC. It is impossible to behold the notion of beauty and a hideous end in the same moment. I like your match making plan and vote for love.
Prayers for Flaco and caregivers everywhere.
In my next life I mean to be a pigeon in Manhattan: lofty perches, a wealth of tasty scraps, endless entertainment, an island home surrounded by salt water, a mate for life and, importantly, the comfort and cooing conversation of a flock. I wish for Flaco a Gladys in the urban wild.
Knowing that your daughter is surrounded by friends and confidants is a comfort to you, even though she is far away from your watchful eye. It is amazing how even though our children are grown and living a life of their own, a parent worries about their welfare. I would imagine that the creator of us must have the same concern over our welfare even though we are within their omnipresent sight. I guess worrying is a part of a creator's job, whether it is a parent or a deity.
I bet Flacco is the Quarterback of Owls. Go Birds!!! My co-worker doesn't believe in confinement in zoos and preserves. That's her nature-orientated side. She would rather Gladys find a new habitat than a death by rat poisoning. Ha. Thanks for this conversation. Central Park is a lovely community with friends & other creatures.
This one is just beautiful! All is right with the world. YOU compelled me to leave a comment to let YOU know what a wonderful difference you bring to the world.