The hawk clearly intended to out wait the brave rooster and it’s imbecilic owner. After a few minutes I sprinted to the woodpile to grab a weapon. The instant I moved the hawk took flight. The chase was on again! The rooster squawked louder and sprinted for the safety of the truck. I grabbed a piece of firewood and hurled it. The log landed close enough to the hawk to make him call off the attack. Whew!
By now the hawk was on a closer fencepost; less than ten feet away. The rooster was under the truck but still sounding his alarm. (As if there was a hen left in the county that wasn’t hiding by now.) The dog in the house was trying to tear the wall down to rescue us all. A nearby barn cat was fast asleep. (Cats! They exist to piss me off!)
The hawk took flight and cruised around the back of the barn. I ran for the house to get my shotgun. I had no intention of shooting the hawk (I like their grace and there’s probably a million laws protecting them anyway). I just wanted to use the timeless and undeniable argument that is understood by everyone; “run like hell because I’ve got my boomstick!”
By the time I got back one of our turkeys was flapping across the yard with the hawk hot on it’s trail. All I could think was; “You’ve got to be kidding me!” The turkey was massive compared to the hawk. Our free range turkeys are sweet critters with the disposition of a kitten. Unfortunately they’ve got the brain of a cueball and the grace of a thrown brick. When chased by a hawk it went from clumsy to utterly unhinged. It was careening into the fence, the truck, tree trunks, and everything else. The hawk followed closely but hesitated here and there. I guessed that it had no idea what it would do if it actually caught a turkey over five times its size. The turkey, if it had a brain (which they don’t) could probably have turned around and eaten it.
The hawk, letting logic overcome bloodlust, realized the turkey was out of his league and veered toward the cat. Awesome!
Unfortunately the cat got with the program and shot off like lightning. It zoomed over the woodpile and straight up a tree. The hawk thought better of the cat and jetted toward my truck’s bumper where the rooster was still carrying on.
I tried to find a spot where nothing was in the way. It wasn’t easy since the whole lawn was in chaos. Then I noticed the block of firewood lying on the grass.
Boom! I scored a direct hit on immobile firewood. That got everyone’s attention!
The turkey let out a sound exactly like Gilbert Godfrey having a heart attack. The cat poofed up like an exploding dustmop and practically tried to chew it’s way into the tree. The rooster (inexplicably) left the safety of the truck and chased after the turkey. The dog in the house let out a war cry that could make paint peel. The hawk came to a screeching halt mid-air and briefly hovered while trying to decide what the hell to do next.
I racked the slide and fired again. Boom! You’ve got to double tap blocks of wood… you don’t want one coming back to life and getting’ ya!
That did it! The turkey, cat, and rooster were long gone. The hawk, having changed course against all laws of physics, was airborne but with no momentum. It was flapping hard to get moving. It really wanted to be somewhere else.
I racked the slide again. The firewood was doomed and I was just wasting ammo for fun. The hawk had learned the meaning of boomstick and was desperate to get out of Dodge. It did an emergency jettison of extra baggage by taking an impressively huge crap. If it had flapped any harder it would have turned itself inside out.
I spared the firewood for no other reason than ammo ‘aint free and I was impressed by the hawk’s speed dump. Two seconds later the hawk had cleared the trees and was aiming to break the sound barrier. I wouldn’t be surprised if it didn’t stop for a hundred miles. It was clearly headed for somewhere safer, like Jupiter.
I’d literally scared the crap out of it!!! At the moment this seemed like the greatest feat ever accomplished in the entire history of mankind. I let out a hearty laugh. The cat (apparently stuck in the tree) made a pitiful sound. This only made me laugh harder.
It took a good minute or two to stop laughing. Then I picked up the wood (which had given it’s life for the cause!) and tossed it in the forest. I don’t need lead melting into my firebox.
It had been crazy but none of the animals got hurt. (The block of wood gets posthumous honors for making the ultimate sacrifice.) It had been a close shave. The rooster lost a few feathers but seemed to think he saved the day. The hawk will probably keep flying until it’s in another time zone. The cat (to my dismay) eventually came down from the tree. The turkey, having no brain at all, immediately forgot what had just happened and begged for treats. The hens came out a few minutes later. The dog hadn’t actually destroyed the house but it sure tried. Also, for no reason whatsoever, the dog seems to have the opinion that this was all caused by the turkey. (Which is why the dog has a future in politics.)
Everything I did made sense but it had been weird. It’s precisely why I shouldn’t have neighbors.