And Pigs Fly

Posted on August 18, 2015 under Storytelling with one comment

All signs point towards the cow parachuting capital of the world

 

 

The elderly American couple, Ruth and Peter, had just completed a trip around the world-renowned Cabot Trail. Retired history professors, they made many side trips, visiting landmarks such as the Fortress of Louisburg, the Big Fiddle and Rita’s Tea Room. They saw a moose on MacKenzie Mountain and were startled at the enormity of the magnificent animal. They also saw eagles soar on the Mira and enjoyed a whale watching tour in Cheticamp. They thought that they had seen some of the most intriguing sights and wildlife imaginable.

That is, until they took the off ramp at Exit 33 near the town of Antigonish.

It was nearly dusk when they decided to get a room for the night. They were dog tired as the car decelerated on its approach to one of the newly constructed roundabouts. The large tourist sign ahead indicated the usual amenities like hotels, gas and lodging. However, in the far right-hand corner, there was an image that was very much out of the ordinary. Although they both saw it neither mentioned it, chalking it up to a mistaken impression due to twilight and fatigue.

After a better than average sleep, Peter was on the go early. He was intrigued about the whole sign business from the night before. Maybe his eyes had played a trick on him in the waning light. He decided that he must put the matter to rest so he grabbed his car keys and headed for the door for a second look. “Where are you going?” queried his bride of 45 years. “I’m going to go through the drive through and get us a cup of coffee.”   He thought that clarification of the sign might initiate a lively discussion at the breakfast table.

He headed for the highway and in the clear light of day and well rested, to boot; he stopped the car, turned off the motor and stood in front of the sign. There, as clear as could possibly be, was the picture of two cows, suspended from parachutes. He looked at the sign and viewed the landscape around him. He didn’t have the foggiest notion what the sign meant. He drew upon all of his years of academe and drew a total blank. He grabbed his cell phone and snapped a picture.

He quickly returned to the hotel.

“Where’s my coffee, dear?” In his haste to solve the mystery, he had completely forgotten about the “other” reason for his little outing.

“Honey, did you notice the sign that we saw just before we entered the roundabout last night?” Ruth nodded in the affirmative. “And did you find anything peculiar about the sign?” “Yes. I thought I saw a picture of parachuting cows but I didn’t want to say something and have you think that I was losing my marbles!” she replied.

He whipped out his phone and clicked on the “picture” icon and there, as large as life, was the small herd of cattle (2 to be exact), floating gracefully down from the heavens.

A quick “Google search” revealed nothing. In recent years they had become avid users of social media. If you’re going to keep in touch with the grandkids, this is a given. They immediately turned to Facebook, that great amalgam of humanity and wisdom.

And the feedback poured in. Someone opined that the Republicans might be parachuting in a candidate for our upcoming federal election. There was a suggestion (credible) that this type of signage was common in Scotland to warn people about cattle crossing areas. Perhaps the logo indicated that some cows had been abducted by space aliens and managed to escape. Maybe “cow parachuting” was a new sport found only in this neck of New Scotland. Or could Banksy have visited our small town?

The debate raged on for much of the day with no clear resolution.

Just before heading west on their journey home, Ruth and Peter circumnavigated the town just so that they could view the sign one more time. “Students” muttered Peter. “Economics students”. “You have two cows …” replied Ruth.

In some clever marketer’s eyes, cows can fly.

Surely pigs can’t be far behind?