I'm not much of a golfer. I consider it a moral victory if I find more golf balls than I lose. Yesterday, I went golfing for the first time in about a year - not expecting great results. My scores were well above par (mostly above double-bogey), but I didn't lose a single ball in the water. I didn't lose a single ball in the weeds, or one in the trees. I did, however, lose one in a goose!
I teed up - picked out a lofty 4 wood to make sure to go high up and over the pond between me and the green. Stepped up to the ball. Drove said ball right into a herd of geese standing at the edge of the tee box. Feathers flew. Geese squawked (that is an oddly spelled word, isn't it!) and scurried (I don't know if geese actually scurry as much as they kind of flounder about in aimless confusion, but whatever...). And one little goose traded his entrails for my Titlist.
A moment of silence for the recently departed member of our feather gallery...
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