Swan wrangling left intern neck deep in trouble
Igraduated from Oklahoma State University way back in 1973 with a bachelor of science degree in wildlife ecology. I felt especially pleased with myself when I landed an internship at Canada's Delta Waterfowl Research Station. Life was coming up all peaches and cream.
What I remember most about that experience was day one of my arrival at that distant location and within mere minutes of having the dust settle, having my new boss come up to me and instruct me to go about the task of swan wrangling.
Thinking back on all of the book learning that had ensued during my four-year stint in that institution up at Stillwater, I could not fathom ever having accrued any classroom instruction on how to go about a task as odd as that one. I decided to chalk it up as on-the-job training and to try my hand at winging it as best as could be done.
My new boss explained to me the captive flock of four tundra swans had managed to effect an escape from their confinement. A finger was pointed at the four white objects swimming away from us way out in the middle of the lake. My boss told me the swans were missing some wing feathers, so it was not as if they could escape by becoming airborne. His nonsensical suggestion was that I needed to wade out into the lake and herd the errant swan family back to shore.
Hindsight is 20-20. Looking back on the situation, I probably should have told my new supervisor that my momma raised no fool and that I was quitting my job post-haste.
I did nothing of the sort. I waded out into the lake. When I got alongside the HUGE swans, I was neck deep in the drink. The swans could just have easily killed me at that point in the story but, then again, do you suppose my old boss would be writing this story right now as we speak? Needless to say, I lived to see another day … hence my authorship of this article.
I managed to stay in Canada for the full extent of the five-month internship. Later on in that summer, my boss had me jamming explosive propellants into the plungerignited rockets that flung capture nets over duck flocks that had been lured in front of the nets with a corn buffet.
Please do not share this newspaper with my mother.
She has no inkling of the near-death experiences of her first-born.
Let's keep it that way.