The Backyard Sightseer

I can see things.
Things that other people can’t see.
Down through the ages there have been people like me. Sometimes we’ve been scorned, sometimes celebrated. But rarely ignored.
I don’t know if what I have is a talent, but I do know not everyone has it, and that makes me a little lonely at times, knowing I am different.
Friday night, for example, I was out in my backyard when I saw an animal I had never seen before. It was very low to the ground and had a white, pointy nose. It was working away snorting up birdseed from the ground. It didn’t see me, whatever it was, but I kept one hand on the garage door knob in case it suddenly made a murderous dash for me and I had to escape.
I watched this little creature for five minutes or so and it seemed oblivious to everything around it. It sure was having a good feed.
I texted my son with the message that I thought there was a possum in the backyard, but who knows what it was? It didn’t seem to be a skunk as there were no stripes and great bushy tail.
My son came out and had a look, and because he is like my father, a lifelong farmer, he is brave as a pirate and he walked right over to the thing. Then he drew back his foot to kick it.
“No,” I thought. “I don’t want to see it hurt.”
But it was too late. He kicked that big old dead maple leaf as hard as a leaf has ever been kicked.
There are two more things I think my son thinks I should see as this was not the first time something like this has happened.
I think he thinks I should see an eye doctor and a doctor doctor.
I’ll have to see about that.

2021 Jim Hagarty

Author: Jim Hagarty

I am a 72-year-old retired journalist, busy recovering from a lifelong career as an unretired journalist. This year marks a half century of my scratching out little fables about life. My interests include genealogy, humour and music. I live in a little blue shack in Canada and spend most of my time trying to stay out of trouble. I am not that good at it. I also spent years teaching journalism. Poor state of journalism today: My fault. I have a family I don't deserve, a dog that adores me, and two cars the junk yard refuses to accept. My prized possessions include my old guitar and a razor my Dad gave me when I was 14 and which I still use when I bother to shave. Oh, and my great-great-grandfather's blackthorn stick he brought from Ireland in the 1850s. I have only one opinion but it is a good one: People take too many showers.