Epilogue: I returned from my trip with a thoroughly filthy motorcycle and a huge smile. It had been a great trip. I slept like a baby.
The next morning Mrs. Curmudgeon shook me awake. “Look out the window.”
A fuckin’ grouse. In our back yard. No shit. Sitting on a little tree branch as if to say “Hi! I’m here!”
Such vast irony in the universe.
“Get your shotgun and nail it!” Mrs. Curmudgeon coaxed. Had I not returned empty handed from an extended grouse hunting trip? Was this not a grouse?
“Nope. I’m not hunting today.” I mumbled as I started making coffee for the work day. It all makes perfect sense to me.