Not three words you often see in the same sentence. On my trot around the neighbourhood this morning, while passing the goat pen, I found a laughing dove (no, he wasn’t laughing at that particular moment) drowning in a pan of water in the desert.

Soggy Dove
He still looked fairly alert (i.e., not dead yet) so I effected a rescue. I was separated from the dove-and-pan by a fence. I found a stem of a palm frond (not hard in the desert) and reached it through the fence and lifted the dove out of the pan.

The implement of rescue, inserted through the fence.
He was soggy but still alert (i.e., not dead yet).
You see a picture of him outside the pan. That nose is the nose of an inquisitive goat who had to sniff the dove to see if he was food. At that point, it appeared the goat answered that question in the negative.

This was not exactly Jack Bauer stuff. I did not have to torture anyone to find out the location of the dove-in-distress. No one was kidnapped to prevent the rescue. Defusing the dove did not result in a device being disarmed. However, it was a more interesting morning than usual, which may speak volumes about my mornings.
I had to leave as I had a hearing to chair and could not wait to see the dove fly away, die or instruct a crow as counsel to commence a lawsuit against the careless farm owner who left such an unattended nuisance. It could also have been that the goats decided to have a quick game of dove tossing , with Mr. Dove participating as a little grey shuttlecock. Don’t know. I’ll have to stop by tomorrow to see what or who’s left.