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Un-Lucky Bird

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On a recent trip to Wisconsin, I managed to completely obliterate a trophy pheasant on Southbound I-173 towards Antioch. The last thing I saw was his bright yellow (right) eye… Poof! Feathers everywhere… In my mind I played out a story of the pheasant surviving… his right eye forever sewn shut by a hideous scar. So hideous that all the ladies avoid him and he becomes “that one” pheasant that brazenly walks up to any hunting dog… staring the dog down with his monocular glare. Since the pheasant never runs, all the dogs gather at the kennels to swap stories of coming face-to-face with this bad-ass bird. “Dude, he can see your soul!”

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