True story and something I'll never forget....
Last night, the phone woke me up at midnight. Grumpy me who was just asleep answered, - it was the police.
Policeman: Hello this is the local police. Are you Jon who runs the camping place?
Me: Yes
P: We had a call from a camper who complained about a wounded seagull which is limping around the camping ground, probably looking for food.
Me: Ahh, I was told this morning but have not seen it yet. Is it a recent call?
P: Yes, he just called.
Me: (Knowing/guessing that the customer is a professional complainer, or rather, the wife) So, what do you suggest I do?
P: Well, could you go and have a look and...take care of things.
Me: Hmm. Shotgun is a little noisy in the evening calm. Guess I'll have to twist him.
P: Seagulls are hard to twist, and they peck nicely. (Which will send you to the doc). Gun would be better.
Me: Don't you have some firearm that is better.
P: Naaa, just the Glock
Me: Ooops. I guess I'll better use the shotgun then, if there is a chance. I'll have a look and let you know. It will maybe shock the guy if he hears the BOOM outside his caravan.
P: Great! Might stop him from wasting other people's time about details like that.
So, I took my trusty 12 gauge Baikal, 2 shots, a good wooden stick and marched off to the camping ground. My 16 year old Border collie was outside so she followed. She got followed by a young Icelandic shepheard which lives outside and follows me like my own shadow. She in return was followed by the barn cat, who also follows me like my own shadow (Those two grew up together and the cat frequently sleeps on top of the dog).
This platoon now entered the camping ground (1/4 mile away from the farm) to find
1: No seagull
2: No complainant
3: A smoking Frenchman.
Now the Frenchman was quite startled and probably considered to surrender. So I had to try and calm him down by explaining I was looking for a bird. His English was guite bad so I had to explain what a bird is by flapping my arms etc. Anyway, after the guy got some comprehension of this and saw the humour in it, I promptly said farewell and left. With my escort, but the column was disturbed when my Border collie tried to catch the cat (she hates cats).
I reported this to the policeman, who is probably still having problems holding his coffee, together with the rest of the force (I know most of them).
Now I'm off again to the camping ground, but I think I'll do with a good stick
