Encounter of the emu-kind

As most family and friends know, I'm a staff writer for a local paper. On my way out to take pictures of Al Parish's house (an investor who defrauded millions from clients and now his house is being sold to compensate them), I stumbled across an emu. Not exactly alien ... but interesting. So, being the animal lover that I am, here is the sequence of events that unfolded:



Street Mutt: "Oh look, an emu. How cute!"

What Street Mutt thinks the emu thinks: "Oh look, a human. How cute ... maybe we can be friends."

Well before long, Mr. Emu became a little more friendly ... or so I thought



I did not realize how long their necks actually were ... trust me, they are long. And, as it turns out, Mr. Emu didn't actually want to be my friend. He either a) wanted me to feed him or b) wanted to eat me. He tried to beak me to death, while I graciously (read: yelped and panicked) tried to take his photo.



After several failed attempts to kill me, he posed for me, giving me that sexy evil eye and swaying back and forth. What did I learn today? Emus don't make good friends ... In fact, I don't think they know the definition of friend -- unless it's "someone who I beak to death."