Wayne State Wildlife (Not What You Think)

As I approached the Wayne State University baseball diamond, aptly named Harwell Field (those who know, know) during my walk this morning, I noticed two dogs in the outfield grass. On closer inspection, they sure looked liked wolves, large and gray. I'd best keep an eye on them, I thought. It even occurred to me to wonder if perhaps I should report the sighting to someone, the police or school authorities, or the DNR, somebody.

There is a tall, wooden wall at the end of left field (it has the old left field scoreboard from Tiger Stadium on it) and I was soon behind the monolith. Clearing it beyond center, I looked around to make certain I knew where those wolves were. They were still there. Indeed, they hadn't seemed to have moved. Odd.

By the time I reached the far foul pole, they were still at attention, apparently exactly as they had been for five minutes or so. Intrigued, I stopped along a fence to study things more closely. Maybe I should call out to them? Right, Marty. Let's draw attention to yourself from a wolfpack.

It was then that I finally realized they were fake, or were long dead wolves courtesy of a taxidermist. The plates they stood upon were kind of a giveaway. Now I'm thinking that they must be there to scare off the Canadian geese that I have often spotted waddling along the field. I must say that I was mildly alarmed as well, at least at first.

Canada Geese are Arrogant

Twice this week I've been stopped while driving by Canada Geese. They just march into the road like they own it and all us drivers wait, uh, patiently. 

This past Sunday me Mom and I were caught by a traffic signal on Ford Road in Canton, Michigan. Three geese, biding their time at the corner, began sauntering across the highway. Never mind the heavy Sunday afternoon traffic which had to sit as the light cycled through a couple of times. The birds had the green light at the start and were taking it. Mom did get a kick out of seeing them though.

Early yesterday as I made my way along Rotunda Drive in Dearborn I came into stalled cars. As I was at the start of a long, leftward curve I could see the reason: about six cars in front of me a line of geese were crossing the road. Maybe they were trying to figure out why the chicken did it. Any way you slice it, they were as bad as Detroiters crossing the street. My street! Not yours! They even stared at drivers as Detroiters would: yeah, I'm crossing? What'cha gonna do?

You gonna wait. But that don't mean you gotta like it.