The Gangster Goose and His Duck Henchmen

This is a true story of the second year I attended college at the University of New Mexico.  I am typing out this story just specifically for my mom.  I swear that it is a true story (for the most part).

I have to preface the story with the fact that I have a pathological fear of birds.  I hate birds more than most.  I really hate large farm animal type birds because they pinch and twist when they bite.  I have never been bit by a large bird but I still hate them.  My dad had guard geese at one of his shops when I was a kid.  They were vicious and would mess anyone up who thought of breaking into the shop.  I think that is where the pathological fear comes from.    Once I even tried to throw my mother into a duck pond trying to get away from some geese.  So you get that I am really afraid of birds.

The University of New Mexico is a large beautiful campus.  On the northwest side of campus is a duck pond with tons of grass to lounge in and shade to study in.  There is a building called Dane Smith Hall just northwest of the duck pond.  Just south of the duck pond is Mitchell Hall.  There is a sidewalk that runs around both side of the duck pond connecting the two building.  So in order to go from English class in Mitchell Hall to Stats class in Dane Smith Hall I had to walk past the duck pond one direction or another.

On this particularly dreary, foreboding, spring day I had to go to class in the rain.  I made it to my first class in Mitchell Hall, soaked but still on time.   After class the professor asked me to stay and speak with her about a public speaking project.  (I had a bad habit of making my public speaking presentations on serial killers which was unsettling to my classmates).  This is the point where the day headed south very quickly.  I had fifteen minutes to get to my Stats class on the other side of the duck pond.  I spent way to much time speaking to the professor and had to hurry to my next class.  My Stats class was one of the few that the professor took attendance and used that in calculating your grade.  So I really didn't want to be late.

As I was walking up the sidewalk, past the duck pond to Dane Smith Hall I saw some shadows looming in the distance.  As I got closer I realized it was a goose wearing a little trench coat and a black fedora standing in the middle of the sidewalk.  To this day I swear he had a miniture, goose sized, tommy gun.  I thought "How bizzare, I can skirt around him and still get to class on time.  Surely he is not after me."  Then my day took a turn for the worse.  Much worse.  Standing on either side of him in a V formation were six ducks, three on each side.  They must not make duck size trench coats but the ducks for sure had little fedora's.  You could also tell that some of them were packing .45's under their wings.  The gangster goose and his duck henchmen made for an intimidating gang.

As the sceen processed through my head I heard the goose sound a command.  At that moment I let out a little scream.  (Really it was more like a blood curdling scream).  I got the attention of the maintanence workers on the other side of the duck pond.  They turned around in time to seen me turn and run.  As I got some momentum the slick sidewalk came up to meet me.  I lay there on the wet sidewalk thinking for sure I was going to be shot and killed by the gangster goose and his duck henchmen.  Or much worse bit by the gangster goose. As I pulled myself up off of the sidewalk I looked at the maintenence guys.  They were laughing really hard as the goose and his ducks drifted back to the pond.  The weird thing is they no longer had gangster outfits or guns.

I made it to Stats class wet and embarrassed but at least I was not shot and killed by a gangster goose or his duck henchmen.

This is the most menacing goose I could find.  The only pictures of geese in clothing on google were the cute lawn ornaments wearing bonnets.  The gangster goose was for sure wearing a fedora.  So just imagine him in a trench coat and fedora carrying a miniture tommy gun.

Kids and Dogs

Some of the rough patch I have been going through involves a disrupted adoption.  David and I really wanted a family and due to illness we decided to adopt.  After being lied to by the state foster/adoption program and suffering through a disruption, we decided adoption is not the right choice.  Here is where it gets bizarre.  David and I have four dogs, a white fuzzy mutt named Psycho, a white deaf dalmatian mix named DB, a red doberman named Gracie, and a black doberman named Shelby.  We also have two cats, a female tortoise shell named Monkey and a big black male cat named Precious.  I love my dogs and cats more than most. 

So my bright idea a month after a disrupted adoption is to foster a doberman from the Doberman Rescue of New Mexico.  It makes me feel like we are doing something good and making a difference.  So on Friday we got Titan, a 110 pound boy.  Yes, 110 pounds of untrained doberman.  I can hear everyone slapping their foreheads right about now.  But this doesn't continue in the direction you may be thinking.

Titan may be a big boy but he is really sweet.  He was taken from an animal shelter in Las Cruces where he was dropped off after being an outdoor dog and never being trained.  I am guessing that someone paid upwards of $1000 for him.  He is a great example of his breed needless to say.  I am also guessing that they got him when he was a small puppy thinking he would be 50-60 pounds full grown.  When he reached the 100 pound mark and they had not trained him he went to a shelter.  From the shelter he went to his first foster home here in Albuquerque.  At his foster home he was also an outdoor dog because the gentleman could not walk him or get him to stop marking in the house.  So from there he came to us.

When he came to us both of his ear had infection in them.  He had not had a bath ever I would venture to guess.  He did not know his name nor was he house broken.  He also does not know how to walk on a leash unless you like being walked by a tank.  That was three days ago. 

Titan, David and I got a bath on Friday night.  He sat in the tub looking sad while David and I shampooed him three times and conditioned him once.  When we were finished bathing him he wouldn't get out of the tub.  I personally don't want to pick up 110 pounds of smelly wet doberman.  Thank God for David getting his front feet out of the tub so he came out on his own.   I have brushed all dead hair and skin off of him every time he is still for a minute.  So he is now getting his shiny doberman coat back.

My mother knows the best remedy for dog ear infections (may work on kids too).  White vinegar mixed with water 50/50.  I got David to hold his head while I treated his ears with a dental syringe.  So when I dropped the solution into his ears he shook his head and got both David and I covered in dirty dog ear vinegar.  I had to do that three more times and the infection cleared up.  I smelled like vinegar for two solid days.  Titan smelled like rotting meat for two days.  I think I got the better end of that deal.

As of today Titan has not marked in the house.  He also hasn't had an accident in the house or in the spare bathroom where he stays at night.  He also knows his name and the sit command.  The one issue is my cats.  Titan thinks cats are neat.  Not neat to eat, just unusual.  He will sit and stare at my cat and then bark at her to try to get her to play.  David's cat is a whole different story.  Precious teases Titan.  He walks by Titan very slowly to try and get him to chase him.  So both Precious and Titan were in trouble yesterday.  I don't trust Titan with the cats yet so he has to sleep in the spare bathroom and hangs out in there while we are at work.    When I get off of work today we are going to start learning to walk on a leash.

Now where do kids come into this post?  I like my Dobermans more than I liked one of  the kids we were going to adopt.  Does that make me a horrible person or what?  The doberman pisses me off I can spray him in the face with a water bottle.  I can't do that to a foster kid.  If the doberman teases my cat unmercifully I can lock him outside until he calms down.  The kid that tortured my cat had no repercussions other than the cat left the house for days at a time.  Titan is a big, sweet, loving doberman unlike the kid that was a sociopath.

If you are interested in the Doberman Rescue of New Mexico you can visit their website linked below.  On their website is the instruction on how to foster or adopt a doberman.  You can also relinquish custody of a doberman if you are unable to care for it.  They also take donation to help with the cost of taking care of the dogs.  Titan will have his medical care paid for by Doberman Rescue of New Mexico until he is adopted out.  I am just responsible for the cost of food.

http://www.dobermanrescuenm.org/

Who I Am

I am Angela, a 28 year old college graduate that works as a case manager on a grant funded project.  I work at both a juvenile detention facility and a public school.  I have to be very careful about how much I say about my job for obvious reasons.  I am married to David a construction inspector for a well known west coast construction firm.  David is a type 2 diabetic that is overall compliant but sometimes not.  I have four dogs, one foster dog and two cats. 

Why do I want to write a blog?  My mom always laughs about the things that happen to me and the stories I tell.  Right now I am going through a really rough patch in my life.  I think that writing about things that are funny or sad or somewhere in between help me cope and process.

I hope my readers enjoy what I write.  I really appreciate comments.