If you wanna see Judy ya gots to get up before false dawn whispers to birds that flying time is fast approaching.
Judy haunts the false dawn as faithfully as the sun has risen since the Creator snapped proverbial fingers and cleaved the dark.
Judy. Legs taken by a drunk driver, as he staggered away unscathed, 45 summers ago.
Judy. Outlaw Most Fowl.
Judy is a true desert woman of New Mexico. Her arms put Arnie Schwartzenegger's to shame. Made that way by the constant pushing of her wheelchair's wheels across the desert sand.
No new-fangled electric hover-round / wheelchair for Judy. No sir. She would consider it sissyfied. A waste of money. Judy's mettle is forged stronger than any steel. If'n she gets tired pushing those wheels, she lasso's a stump and pulls herself along.
God help the Immovable Object if it ever meets Judy. My pennies will be on Judy.
I hear her before I see her. It's the damn squeak of the Radio Flyer that fills the false dawn. That wagon has to be as old as the Conestogas that lie buried in the sand along the Santa Fe Trail.
No need of roosters here to wake us up. Judy's Radio Flyer works even better cause you don't need to feed it.
Judy once offered the wagon to a homeless man. Said his filched grocery cart was in better condition. Personally, I think that Radio Flyer is the original prototype. Gotta be. Anywho, Judy has the wagon hitched to her wheelchair.
In the wagon, filled almost to the brim, is wild bird seed of all kinds. She wheels the load behind her hovel and unhitches the wagon. Always a few minutes before the birds open their eyes to the false dawn.
Rain, snow, sleet, hail, twisters, floods, drought. Makes no difference. Judy has that wagon in place. I've seen her do this every single day for over 30 years. Even sick, Judy prepares and delivers the wagon.
Four times in 30 years I've watched the ambulance crew patiently wait for her while she delivers the wagon.
Jim Bridger, infamous Mountain Man, is a pussy compared to Judy.
Judy ain't stingy with her birds. She allows me the honor of feeding the hummingbirds. Every other type of bird from miles around, side with her. After all, Judy provides them the Mother Load.
Farther than the crow flies sits a man in a suit. He be the mayor of the largest city in New Mexico. A Republican. He does not like doves or pigeons. They tend to poop and City Hall can't have that going on along the banks of the Rio Grande. At least during Republican adminstrations.
So the decree went from the Mayor that people caught feeding pooping birds would be fined a whopping fifty dollars per incident. To most of us New Mexicans this decree sounded like something Caligula would have dreamed up while marrying his horse.
Nowadays, Republicans are kinda funny that way. Nothing they say or do makes a spit of sense.
Judy took the news like she always does. "He's a pussy. Mess with me and my birds, he'll need the entire city workforce to extract the Radio Flyer from his skanky patoot."
Judy never minces words. She is honest and blunt, as a good desert woman should be.
Well, Judy still hauls the bird seed every day in her Radio Flyer. Pigeons, Doves, etc. continue to poop.
Nobody in this neck of the desert would dare turn Judy into the Mayor. We love her birds as much as she does and we all love Judy.
The Mayor, not so much.
Now, Judy lives frugally on her Medicaid, which isn't enough to begin with. She buys nothing fancy for herself and she eats sparingly. Her meager funds pays for the bird seed. She gives it to the birds outta friendship and because she's a fine desert woman of the best kind and a real American.
Judy. Outlaw most fowl.
Moral of the story is this: Republican crap contaminates. Pigeon poop helps bring renewal. Pigeons will coo to your soul. Republicans will corrupt it.