It's a Dangerous Job

Midnight raiding has its hazards and well as its pleasures. Fortunately the pleasures outweigh the dangers or I wouldn't be able to afford the insurance.

We started out the nightly rounds with a herd of holsteins bound for San Ramon. The address indicated an apartment building which can pose a serious challenge - finding
the apartment, hoping there is someplace even close to the door to set up, wondering how many other residents will find it all so cute they must help themselves to a souvenier. This one was easy. All we had to do was get through the security gate. I still don't know if the guard knew we were coming or if the whole idea of a cow delivery at 2 am was so absurd that it must be allowed to pass.

After unloading the herd we headed back to Sausalito to retrieve last night's flamingos. From clear starry skies to rain in 40 miles. Gotta love the Bay area. You can have almost any weather you want, every day.

Anyway, back to the hazards. DBFA is coming down the stairs with 2 hands full of birds when he catches his heel on the bottom step. In slow motion he topples to his knees, stretches out his arms to release 12 or 13 lethal flamingos (these things are mounted on an 24" sharpened steel stake), falls on his side and comes to rest at my feet. First - "Are you injured, stabbed, or suffering anything broken?" No - "OK, can you get up?" Yes. With my assistance, we get him back on his feet and check for blood or protruding flamingos. Superficially, all seems intact. Next thoughts (being the empathic soul that I am)- at least this is a pick up. If it had been a delivery and we had to call the paramedics, all the flashing lights and commotion would probably screw up the surprise.

He is lame today. It hurts to fall on your knees. It especially hurts when you're all grown up and packing a few extra pounds to help with the impact. Makes my patellas hurt to think about it.