Frozen Fowl Flung for Fun

This was originally published in The Ottawa Times. I'm thinking if I rewrite the article and slant it toward a humor market I might be able to sell it again. I'd aim it at either a hunting or field trial magazine or perhaps a dog breed magazine. Or, I could, if those markets don't pan out aim toward a human interest market for a caregiving parent trying to find an outlet for stress relief. I'm sure if I think about it I can come up with all kinds of markets for humor.

It needs re-written from scratch with a totally new approach. I'm not worried about copyright because the newspaper only takes first rights. then it reverts to me. If I use it as is they want mentioned but if I totally rewrite it with a fresh slant and aim it at a different market, copyright wouldn't even be an issue.



Frozen foul flung for fun?

I love dogs. I'm also prone to brainstorms. When one hits, I should know better than to act on it, but I never seem to learn.

This particular brainstorm involved my Golden Retriever, Murphy. I decided participating in field trials would be fun. I asked around and located a lady who breeds and trains Golden Retrievers for field-trial competition. I gave her a call and explained my goal.

"I'll help you train your dog if you'll help me with mine." she said.

Confidence oozed from me. How hard could helping her be?

I gave her instructions to my house so she could meet me and evaluate Murphy. After we passed her inspection, she told me we would drive to a nearby park for training.

"Ok," I said, cringing now at my own naiveté.

A short time later, I stood beside her as she unloaded her dogs. She wanted to work them first so I stood by awaiting instructions.

She rummaged in her car, pulled out a heavy gunny sack and handed it to me. "Take this and go over behind those trees." She pointed to a stand of trees quite a distance away.

"Okay," I agreed. "What's in the bag?"

She grinned at me. My impression of evil is, I'm sure, my own imagination.

"The birds," she said. "I keep my eyes open for road kill. I pick them up and keep them in the freezer until they‘re needed.”

Yuck. I'm sure I didn't say that out loud. I’m well mannered but frozen road kill in the freezer? Double yuck.

I opened the bag and peeked in to see frozen birds; ducks, a pigeon and what possibly might have been a pheasant.

"What do I do with these?" I worked to keep my voice steady.

She said, and I swear this is a verbatim quote: "You hide behind those trees, throw the bird as high as you can and yell 'Quack, quack."

"I--What?" I prayed she was joking.

She wasn’t.

"You have to quack and you have quack loud. The dog needs a direction to look," she instructed.

I looked at the trees then at the bag full of dead birds and thought. This is a Public park. I'm going to be throwing frozen road kill and quacking in a public park.

My exciting adventure lost a good portion of its thrill, but I’m nothing if not a good sport. I hid behind the trees. I threw dead birds and quacked until I was hoarse.

Did I feel like a fool? You bet.

Then it was Murphy's turn. We started her close. She needed to see the bird thrown. I tossed what was by now a partially thawed duck.

This dog, who never goes anywhere without carrying something in her mouth, went running up to the bird, and refused to touch it.

I think she showed more intelligence than I did. If I interpreted her dog language correctly she was saying, "Yuck—frozen road kill."

Then I remembered the chickens in the barn—chickens she had been taught to leave alone. She had learned her lesson well. No feathers would touch her mouth.

What a good girl.

We returned home. I can't say it was one of the best days of my life. It probably wasn't even the most embarrassing.

I chose not continue our field-trial training. I still think Murphy would have been wonderful, but I really can't see myself tossing dead birds and quacking in public more than once.

Oh yeah. The trainer? She didn't quack. She whistled when she threw the birds.

I'm just surprised I never heard the word snipe while I was hunkered out there in the trees.

I wouldn't have been a bit surprised.