early bird lessons

It's not quite 7am.
The geese go crazy.
I finish fixing breakfast.
The dogs are going crazy.
Bobby looks outside and frowns.
"The geese are paired off," he says.
It's nesting season, not mating season.
Perhaps the flux in weather has them mixed up.
The dogs go berserk.
A fox is staring them down, right outside their pen.
I run out on the back ramp, and yell at him like before.
He ignores me, and the goose chase begins.
I run inside, grab the gun, pull out the bullet box, sending wheelchair replacement parts everywhere.
I start trying to figure out how to load the thing, calling for Bobby.
He's outside watching the chase!
I am not a happy camper.
He comes in, giving instructions and a play-by-play account of what's happening.
Directional communications has never been our strong point.
It took 5 minutes to load one stupid bullet.
I can't see through the scope.
I point in the direction of the fox and shoot.
It scares him off and everything gets quiet.
We eat breakfast.
Bobby finishes getting ready for work.
I get a lecture on gun safety.
Our geese are safe.
I've shot a real gun for the first time ever - a .22 rifle, to be more specific.
My heart is still racing.
Sitting at a computer typing and drawing boxes seems a little lame at the moment.
Go GEESE!