All righty.. guess I better finish of this story... Longest short story ever!
....
...I don't see feathers or anything in the mirrors, and don't have a great view out the left hand mirror, to see if he's off to the side, so I'm thinking all is cool, and get back into it...
So there I am, tootlin' along, and I start coming up behind another road train, and as there is a bend coming up, I have to lift off the gas a bit until I get to a long enough passing straight..... The right foot comes off, but I don't slow down... That’s weird.... Give the pedal a couple of stabs, and still nothing.... Crap, I'm thinking, the accelerator is stuck. Never happened before. (on this truck, anyways) Whilst I'm deciding on a course of action, the gas suddenly comes off on it's own, then back on, off again, on, and then off again. Now this is really weird. I decide not to pass the road train yet, whilst I sort out my own little drama.
I let the speed come down a bit, then plant the pedal again, and off, to see what happens. Normal. Then it's on again all of its own accord. Then on and off again a couple of more times...
Fine. Time to stop and lift the cab and have a bit of a look at the linkages, and sort a solution.... I'm letting the truck slow down under normal engine braking, as I see a nice wide floodway ahead, good for getting off the road, and yet still be on the bitumen. Something catches my eye, in the reflection on the chrome housing of one of the spotlights. As the light is so round, its hard to tell, but I reckon I just found that bloody Eagle. He must be jamming the linkage. Makes perfect sense.
For some weird sun stroked moment, I decide that I'm gonna catch me an eagle. Hell I had a kangaroo, an emu and a dingo as pets over the years, why not an eagle. FYI. Kangaroos make great pets, if you get them young enough. Emu's are turd factories on long legs.
So I pulls up, jumps out and head to the front. Sure enough, the Eagle has landed. He has his head between his feet, and his body is pushed back into the "grill" of the truck, right where the accelerator linkage runs. He doesn't look very happy. Mega pissed off, really. But they always look like that, right?
I grab the spanner to undo the 2 bolts that keep the bull bar upright. Once these 2 bolts are removed, the bar can swing down, to allow the cab to be raised. I don't need to raise the cab, but I'm going to have to lower the bar, to get a hold of this fine specimen of roast dinner.
I've got no gloves, rags, blankets, or anything. Barely even a plan. I'm thinking I'll just lower the bar, grab him, and chuck him in the cab.... how hard can it be, right? That's what we do with calves, at branding time, and they are heaps bigger.
I lower the bar, and we talk to each other for a bit. Well I talk, he just listens, with this strange "I'll rip your throat out" kinda look in his eye.
I'm starting to get nervous. What if he does'nt want to come for a ride in the cab? Bravado deserts me, and I stand back to re-assess. Sudenly, he shuffles around, and he's free! He extricates himself, and struggles to his feet, and perches on the bull bar, glaring at me. I step back a little more. He looks unhappy. Fuck knows why. I just saved his life, didn't I?
He stares a bit more, then leaps off the bar, and slowly flies off and perches in a nearby tree. I decide I've done my good deed, and tighten up the bar, and set off again.
Probably make a lousy pet anyways...
.
