Mateless Goosie

It wasn't Cinco de Mayo, but it was in Mexico City that I witnessed one of the fowlest events ever. Mother and I had spent the week visiting my brother Mike and his family during Spring Break one year. Mike was working for Scott Paper Co. at the time so his family was enjoying a cultural bonanza after moving from Lewiston, Idaho.

They had lived there long enough to show us the many great museums, cathedrals, galleries, and pyramids that reflect so much of Mexico's history. Every night we dined at a different restaurant. My fowl experience occurred the last evening while we sat at table with windows to an outside swimming pool.

Since one should not drink the water in Mexico, our beverage of choice each evening was a margarita---just one. On all the previous nights, I'd been amazed that the altitude mixing with the drink had had little effect on me---the cheap drunk. Get me down to the glass is half empty point any time, and I turn giddy. I notice also that I immediately become enunciation-impaired.

Six nights had gone by and amazingly none of these symptoms had appeared. Well, there must have been some extra hooch in that seventh margarita. In no time that evening I was giggling at every comment, at every sight. I was also trying to comment to the others about this immediate sensation resulting from just one sip, but the words just kind of waddled out of my mouth. The rest of our group, including my mother, thought I was pretty funny throughout the meal. It didn't seem to matter when the food came either. My faculties were still weaving out of control.

It didn't help much when the sex-crazed ducks showed up.

One moment after taking a bite of whatever Mary had ordered for me from the Mexican menu, I glanced out the window to see two ducks "doing it." Passion was intense. Wings were flopping. Waves were reaching surf size. My faculties were sharp enough at the time to remember and correctly pronounce the word "copulate."

"What are they gonna say back in Sandpoint when I tell 'em I saw two ducks copulating in a swimming pool in Mexico City?" I announced, probably loud enough for those at other tables to hear. Since I said it in English, only my family members at our table reacted by staring at the X-rated scene of fowl lovemaking. I wasn't just seeing things through margaritaville lenses; they sat amazed also.

I have told that story a few times, and most folks have agreed that it's a rather unique act of nature to be seeing in a Mexican swimming pool while dining at a Mexican restaurant, no less.

I couldn't help think of that story this morning when the lone Canadian goose among the crowd I've been feeding out near the pond and in my garden stood staring in the front windows of our house. No, she was not returning the favor. There was no X-rated scene inside, but it did seem a bit strange that she'd be hanging out all alone peering in our windows.

Since first spotting her and realizing that all her friends have gone away, I wondered if she was looking for a friend. I think she's found one (at least I'm assuming she's a she) because I've spent half the morning out there telling her how beautiful she is. I've even named her "Gorgeous." The last few times I've gone to the door, she's been standing at the front step awaiting for my return.

I guess I'm going to have to call that the "goose step" from now on. Anyway, I think she's adopted us because her mate must be off in some Canadian restaurant swimming pool, two-timing on her. I wonder if they serve margaritas in Canada.

If Gorgeous hangs around, maybe she and Kiwi can become friends. Stay tuned. And, stay away from the margaritas.