Vultures Crash Party
We had a really great Memorial Day Weekend Bash here! Six of my cousins flew up from the Bahamas, there were 3 Roseate Spoonbills from the local refuge, a couple of pelican stopped by, and my old friend, Taco, the toucan showed up, too.
Taco is retired from the Conch Republic Naval Air Force, where he served for sixteen years. He's been an undercover spy in Cuba and the jungles of South America and lots of other exciting places, too. I met him on the beach last winter. He told us us all kinds of tall tales and really scared the baby Sand Hill Cranes with his stories of pirates in the Caribbean. He also grilled fantastic shrimp on the barbee using his secret sauce - which includes ground scarab beetles!
During dinner, there was a great crash and the upper screen panel over the pool caved in as six ginormous, ugly, black, hairy, vultures plunged through! (Dad is really mad about that and about having to clean all the feathers out of the pool.) We all fluffed our feathers and hissed and honked at them in irritation. They were looking for handouts - for a Vulture Rehab Center. They could ceratainly could use rehabilitation if it would teach them manners. Imagine crashing my party like that!
The Rehab Center would be a large paved asphalt lot with a wide yellow stripe down the middle, and it would be ringed by old dead tree stumps for the vultures to perch in. There would be attendants who would provide meals of road kill three times a day. Vulture paradise!
They held out their little tin cans for us to put coins in. Get a life! I chased them away in a big, hurry!
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