It was my favorite too...Now it's allosaurus
I have a story to tell about ostriches.
When I was 11 years old and rather dumb, I was living in rural Idaho, and we had a man about two miles down the road who farmed ostriches.
I desperately wanted to see an ostrich on the nest(no idea why now). This was a dangerous undertaking, for while one bird sat, the other circled the nest to keep away intruders. And I had seen a dog ripped almost in two from one kick of an ostrich foot.
I had been told that if I was ever attacked there were two means of avoiding serious injury or death. One was to have a long forked stick to thrust at the base of the bird's neck, keeping you far enough away to avoid it's murderous kicks. The other -a last resort- was to lie face downward with my head buried in my arms. The worst that was likely to happen is it that it wil sit on you and peck at you if you move-so don't move a muscle unless you want your eyes pecked out.
I was so intent on my goal that I didn't see the approach of the guardian **** from the other end of the paddock. after hearing a sudden angry "grunt" I turned to see the bird running towards me. I fled, dropping my forked stick. Realizing I could not make it to the fence, I flung myself to the dirt.
As the minutes passed, I raised one arm a little to see where the bird was. Immediately, I felt a sharp stab on the ground close to my side which shook my whole body, followed by another, and another. As I prayed, a sudden stab at my midsection made me wince. The bright metal buttons on my jacket pockets had attracted the angry bird.
I lay, muscles aching yet not daring to move, for what seemed like hours before, carefully looking under my arm again, I suddenly realized the bird was no longer there. I slowly lifted my sore body to let me see over the surrounding scrub. There was nothing in sight! I gathered my nerve and my remaining strength and made a dash for the barbed wire fence.
I had spent the greater part of the day on the ground. I was later told that it was probably the changing of the egg-sitting period which had saved me. The need to return to the nest to relieve the hatching hen had drawn the **** from my side. I returned home to tell the tale of my miraculous escape, with my buttonless coat pockets to support my story.
Unfortunately my parents believed me and I was grounded for the rest of the summer.
In hindsight, I should have kept my mouth shut.