Dinner is late. A lovely Italian dinner. We would’ve eaten nearly an hour ago, but my men are hunting an illusive beast…an escaped emu.

Two hours ago, Gareth comes inside in a panic to inform us all that “there’s something strange in the field…it has two legs and it’s not a person!” Hubby and I were slow to respond to this strange declaration, but the boys quickly bolted to investigate this claim.

Two minutes later, four very agitated boys are yelling excitedly that there is some kind of giant bird, “like an ostrich” at the edge of our yard. Arthur arms himself with his air rifle, dreams of a big-game hunt dancing in his head (he seems to have overcome his previous squeamishness). Dad and I noticed quite quickly that the giant bird, is in fact, an emu and definitely a domesticated bird, belonging to one of the local farms. Problem is, we don’t know which farm.

The bird has attempted to head toward the road, so the boys have continued to herd it toward a safer location. This has been going on for quite sometime. So dinner is late.

I’m not quite sure what their goal is. I think, at this point, it is simply the thrill of the chase. After all, it’s not everyday that a large bird roughly the size of a llama shows up in your yard.

Curiouser and curiouser…