Animal Whispers

We were standing on the shore, watching the swans. The Naturalist told me to enjoy them now, Potato Creek has finally gotten permission to shoot them come November. I know, I know, they destroy the habitat for other things, blah, blah, blah. Perhaps if we could talk to them…

I met an animal whisperer last winter. She gave me her card. She had just come from counseling a bull that had outlived his productive stud life. His owners had decided to castrate him instead of putting him down. Still, he was a little depressed. But she was able to talk him through it. She told me if my goats needed counseling to give her a call. My goats seem pretty happy, but you never know.

While we were watching the swans the Librarian shouted, Look, a Kingfisher. I’m glad she pointed him out, because I don’t know my birds. I’m trying, but… The Kingfisher lit on the top of a dead tree out in the lake and cawed at us, which probably isn’t right either because caw is the sound made by crow-like birds. The Naturalist said he was just saying hi, but I could have sworn he had something else to say. We tried to take his picture, but of course he flew away. It’s too bad the animal whisperer wasn’t there. Maybe she could have interpreted what he wanted to say.