Outlaw Wisteria_{A True Story}

Living on a ranch was a new experience for me. I loved the old ranch houses, especially the one I occupied. The house was framed with wisteria; it embraced the house, curving into spaces and hanging in places perfectly like a work of art. Some ranch resident of long ago had a green thumb--I would have doomed the budding wisteria to an early death. The cacti living at the ranch may have had a chance in their developing years since they beg to be left alone to blossom and produce fruit without help or hinderance from me. Unlike my sister, Madame Horticulture, I didn't have a clue as to the common names for most of the trees and plants on the ranch, much less their official names, but I did have a great appreciation for the survival techniques these botanical wonders possessed. I held them in the highest esteem...I could also leave town without having to worry about finding someone to water and care for them--unlike my pets.

     I was fortunate enough to have a trustworthy friend, Paul, who cared a great deal for my pets and willingly looked out for them when I was out of town whether for business or pleasure. On this occasion Paul agreed to pet-sit while I went skiiing with my friends Bill and Mary and my dog was delighted to see Paul and to accept his gift of an arm-sized chew bone. I gratefully showed Paul the array of bird, cat and dog foods then was on my way to Tahoe.

    Shortly into the trip I called to check on the furry and feathered kids and to see if there was anything that I could bring back for Paul, since he was an avid skier himself. I wasn't able to reach Paul until the afternoon when he immediately informed me that someone had been shooting at him and my dog, Leka, while he was walking her on the ranch.

     "Shooting!" I was shocked. "Shooting what? Why? From where?"

     "BB's or pellets, I guess. I think they're shooting from the roof of the houses next to the ranch," Paul answered, not certain himself. He explained how every time he walked out of the house, they started shooting at him. "They must have a pretty good location, because they are getting close shots no matter where I stand."

     I was relieved to know that none had hit either Paul or my dog and explained the stiuation to Bill and Mary, who were in the hotel room listening to the painc in my voice. One "Is Leka okay?" and I had their full attention. They know that my dog means the world to me and they consider her a buddy as well. But when I explained the situation Bill responded with laughter. I certainly didn't believe someone shooting at Paul and my dog warranted laughter--BB's or pellets could do serious damage.

     "I fail to see the humor, Bill," I said, bewildered by his reaction.

     "It's the wisteria popping; it does that this time of year," he explained with a big smile.

     Not amused, I got back on the phone with Paul. "Did you call the police, Paul?" I asked, which fed Bill's laughter.

     "Yes, they're on their way out," Paul answered and promised to get back to me after the police left.

     Bill's shoulders were hopping up and down as he tried to control his laughter. Mary refrained from laughing but she was on the brink.

     "Bill, it's hardly funny...." I was quite annoyed by the amusement he was deriving from the whole matter.

     "I'm not joking. It's the wisteria. It sounds somewhat like a BB shot. I bet he's just hearing the wisteria popping. And he called the police," Bill said, smiling with a mischievous child expression on his face.

     I didn't know whether to take him seriously. Bill's family had owned he ranch for many years. He was raised there among the bamboo, cacti and wisteria so he should know but how could Paul mistake a shooting seed for a pellet or BB.

     "You are kidding, aren't you?" I asked seriously.

     "No, I'm not," Bill said and finished in laughter. "Did Paul really call the police?"

     I called Paul to see if he could check the wisteria before the police arrived.

     "Paul, did the police arrive yet?" I asked.

     "Yes, and they called for backup. They shot at an officer when he got to the house," Paul said, fully involved.

     "They called for backup? Are you sure someone shot at the officer?" I proceeded to explain Bill's theory as to what the "shots" really were. Paul said he had to go but that he would get back to me when the police left.

     At this point Mary lost her restraint, Bill and Mary were enjoying the whole scenario with Bill elaborating on the scene and Mary wiping away tears of laughter.

     I called Paul back once again to ask him to discreetly check out the wisteria, and that's when he told me how he and the officers were darting from cover to cover to avoid being hit by the shots. He said that the backup was perusing the side streets and houses looking for the shooters.

     The imagery was begining to hit my humorous side. What if it was the wisteria as Bill said, and there at the ranch were police officers dashing through the bamboo and hiding behind a cactus to avoid getting hit by a seed!

    Paul finally did stand by the wisteria, soon accompanied by the officers-- watching and listening to it burst and pop and shoot seeds like BB's, just as nature intended.

     The wisteria held one man, a one hundred pound dog and a crew of police officers hostage.

And, if I wanted to keep my pet sitter, I had to promise Never to Breathe a Word of the Outlaw Wisteria Episode.

Sorry Paul!