Monday I received a call from my friend Lory, who was with her son Enzo, on a school field trip at a small neighborhood lake in Northville. She had explained to me that a swan had been resting on a shore, not too far from where his mate was nesting, and apparently, someone had noticed (for maybe two months now), that the poor behemoth had a fishing line tightly wrapped around his right leg. Fortunately, as fate would have it, I just happened to be in close proximity to the site. When I arrived, the gentle giant was sitting effortlessly on the shore and made no real attempt to stand and defend his territory, as they so often do. It truly appeared as though he was in pain and willing to take a chance on a strangers assistance. As I neared, he turned his almost giraffe like neck toward me as I removed my outer shirt and calmly placed it over his head to keep him calm and relaxed (yeah, right). As I gained control, I was able to secure his leg and with a firm grip, and with a utility knife that (as again, as fate would have it), I just happened to have in my truck, released the handsome creature from his human bondage. After massaging his months old wound, I stepped back and withdrew the blind that held his sight, and he stood proudly to his (probably size 12) feet, ruffled his snow white feathers and sauntered briskly back to his watery domain. There he shuffled his ‘mane’ once more, and took a ‘thank you’ stroll across the lake, by just showing the crowd his majestic stride