When Good Geese Go Bad

In the wake of the recent incident where a flock of geese caused an airliner to go down in the Hudson River, I just read that a vulture smashed through the windshield of another plane. The pilot managed to land safely after all.

It seems like nature is running wild! Last year I read a story about a squirrel causing havoc on a plane. It appears that the pilots on an American Airlines flight from Tokyo to Dallas heard something scurrying around in the wiring above the cockpit. This alarmed them so much that they made an emergency landing in Honolulu, where a stowaway squirrel was found to be the culprit. Fearing the squirrel would chomp its way through wires, the squirrel was removed and promptly killed.

I know, I know...right about now all you animal lovers are saying, “Why did they have to kill that poor little squirrel. It was only doing its squirrel thing, trapped in some wires and trying to get out. They didn’t have to kill it”.

Ah, but perhaps they did. Look around at what’s happening right now. You have a renegade flock of kamikaze geese taking down an entire plane. A groundhog attacked the mayor of New York. Ok, maybe he deserved it more than a little bit, but still. And now a vulture took on yet another plane. Frankly, even more so than flying into a flock of birds, I dislike the idea of some little critter running through the wiring while I’m on a plane; chewing through said wires chills me to the bone.

I’m surprised some other small critters haven’t taken down planes sooner. Small enough to infiltrate planes undetected, chewing through vital instrument panels willy-nilly, any one of various species could have caused massive death and destruction before now.

So perhaps killing the squirrel was an example, and should be a lesson to other animals out there, who appear to be banding together against planes. We’re watching you, and we have exterminators on speed dial, waiting for the next attack.

And we thought we only had to worry about terrorists!

Groundhog's Revenge

Every year on February 2nd there’s all kinds of hoopla concerning groundhogs, and yesterday was no exception. I really hate Groundhog Day.

I wonder where the Human Society or PETA is while various poor groundhogs are being thrust into the limelight. Every year a groundhog is taken from wherever he calls home, shoved into a hollow log like a Keebler Elf, then some top hat wearing goon grabs him by the ruff of the neck and holds him aloft to be photographed like Paris Hilton outside of Nobu. All this pomp and circumstance just to see his shadow where they declare, “There’s six more weeks of winter”.

Well, I know I’m not a whiz at math, but I CAN read a calendar. And when I look at how many weeks there are between February 2nd and the first day of Spring, I count six. As of February 2nd THERE ARE ALWAYS SIX MORE WEEKS OF WINTER.

In the meanwhile, I get very stressed worrying about a poor groundhog being traumatized by all the media attention. But, perhaps I shouldn’t worry as much. I just read a story that the groundhog in New York, called Charles G. Hogg, took a bite out of Mayor Bloomberg’s hand. According to the story, the Mayor was trying to lure it out of its warm wooden cage with an ear of corn, and kept snatching the corn away from it. Clearly annoyed at the whole thing, Charles G. Hogg took his revenge, in the way of a hearty nip out of the mayor’s hand. I say “Good for YOU Charles C. Hogg”. And let this be a lesson to Punxsatawney Phil and the other groundhogs that receive similar treatment.

Next year, all the goofballs that rip a poor, defenseless groundhog from its lair had better beware. Because word travels, and you never know what can happen now that groundhogs have tasted blood. They have an entire year to sharpen their claws and their teeth, and they may decide next February 2nd to take their revenge. Some have already started to rebel; if you don’t believe me, ask Mayor Bloomberg.