I was out on my morning jog today at around 5:30 a.m., and I ran across a gaggle of geese in the road. Big, fat ones, entirely uncaring that they were in the middle of the road, or that I wanted to get by. I had to shoo them away. They complained loudly, honking at me in indignation.
They didn't have blue ribbons around their necks, but they were still way too colorful and rustic for their own good. I felt as if I had accidentally jogged into the middle of a Martha Stewart photo spread.
I live in a development that right on the edge of suburbia, where the suburbs give way to the country. My running route, only about 4 miles, passes several farms. Geese are common. An abandoned railway spur runs through woods across the road from my house, where a neighbor used to keep sheep. I came home from work one afternoon a few years ago to find sheep all over the highway, US Route 1, in this case, which the development's main road exits onto. The sheep had escaped from their rather ramshackle pen, and my neighbors were all over, trying to herd them off Route 1, which is pretty heavily traveled. I parked my car and tried to help. I admit, I was a little intimidated by a ram who probably weighed more than I did. But sheep being sheep, they didn't put up much of a fight, and we managed to get them back into their penned-in area.
The sheep disappeared shortly after that. I expect the owner got grief from the county, the township, the highway department, or even the neighbors, and somehow disposed of them. Too bad, in a way, they added to the color of the place, and made it seem more like the country, and less like suburbia.