A walk on the wild side

I share with friends in Memphis that the stars are brighter and there are more of them. The lightning bugs are still in existence and the bull frogs' croaking sounds like night music. The breeze on the deck at night keeps the mosquitoes away (mostly), and the moon lights the surrounding hay fields and pond. They, in Memphis, seem jealous. I can't wait to tell them abut "Carl."

There is a wild side to this peaceful, sleepy town. You just never know who or what will mosey on by for a visit.

We have kept a keen eye on the foxes that have a den in the ravine to our south. So have the other neighbors. Our puppy kept her eye on them, too, as she chased the mama into the ravine one early morning. She had no idea what she was doing, but it moved, looked like a cat with its long fluffy tail, and her duty as a dog included going after it. As Providence would have it, she stopped at the edge of the ravine and we got her attention, finally, and she came home. No amount of calling could enter that brain as she went where instinct took her. Luckily, the mama fox's instinct was to protect her babies and not turn and have one little seven pound Hershey-kiss for a morning snack.

A first- hand encounter with the deer in the neighborhood is an awesome sight. Mama and babies graze and gracefully leap through the pasture land and across Allen Road, too, so we are circumspect as we drive down that windy little road. Where there is one, you know.

But there is an undercurrent of "you just never know" in this little town: a wild side. The wild part of Rector really came visiting the other afternoon. "Carl," I will call him, went courting, I guess. Earlier in the afternoon, unknown to me, Carl had come walking up the back pasture land, cut behind the pool area that is being remodeled, and gave a nod to all the workmen there before proceeding on down the driveway and turning left onto Woodland Heights. Carl ambled on down the road, seemingly on a mission that he alone understood.

Later that same afternoon, my husband called for me to "come -- come quick!" I put down the book I was enjoying and scurried out the garage entrance. There, I met Carl.

Carl is young, and he's big; you might say he's "dark and handsome" in is own way. He was in our front yard and was heading home by the same path he had taken earlier in the day. Carl must have had a nice visit, for it was three hours later that he decided to reverse his sojourn into town. And there he was; he saw me and I saw him. We were both standing stock-still in amazement. I truly could not believe what I was seeing. While we did not speak, Carl and I made each other's acquaintance. If he had a GPS system on him, he would have had to "recalculate" his route toward his destination.

In astonishment, I said to my husband, "That's a cow! A cow is in our front yard!"

"No, Sweetie. That's not a cow. That's a young bull." Regardless: Cow --- Bull --- it was subject to "moo-ing!" Carl made a left across the front yard, ambled down the side of the house and across into the neighbor's back yard, where he left his "calling card." In no big hurry, he wandered on out to Allen Road, headed east.

Now, you may be accustomed to cows (or bulls) coming up to your house, but to me, that was the excitement for the day. Fourth of July fireworks will have to put on quite a show to top that experience in the "now that was wild" category!