Golfing Eagle

It was just another day. Another round of golf with Val and Jess .I drove my tee shot past the 150 marker and positioned for a 3 on, in this par 4 of 367m. Using a 6 iron for my second shot, I reckon I could easily chip with a 9 iron and let it roll onto the green and to the pin. If today was my lucky golf day, then I could par the hole. Otherwise I don’t mind a bogey.
As I was walking to my ball which was a little left onto the rough, I was petrified to see white baby birds dead on the grass. They were not nestlings but of pretty good sizes. There were 2 of them. I approached them only to have Jess and Val say, “Watch out! Bird flu!”. Well, that’s how ludicrous my golf mates can get!
I proceeded to use my 6 iron to turn them over and to my horror it dawned on me that these were no ordinary birds but they were indeed a species of eagles called the” white belly eagle”. Curiosity got the better of me as I wanted to see what injuries they had sustained. Suddenly I heard an ear piercing, high pitched wailing sound. It was the mother eagle. She actually flew a wee bit too low over my head - probably yelling and calling me a murderer for having the audacity to hang around there. I ducked and ran off from the scene and desperately tried to continue with my game which was not to be.
The mother eagle continued to cry her heart out the way only she knew. She could not believe her babies were dead. She could not endure to see the carcasses of her beloved babies lying helplessly there on the grass. She could not stomach the fact that some predator had the heart to kill her little babies. She circled the area where her babies lay and continued screeching and screeching and screaming and screaming. Her loud protests pierced the morning sky and alerted my husband. Apparently, my house faces the 1st hole of the 3rd nine.
In vain I tried to focus on my game but it was impossible. Throughout the game she continued to defy the inevitable. I could hear her from hole to hole. Upon glancing up to the sky I noticed she was joined by other white belly eagles who also screamed in unison with her. The deep penetrating sorrowful cries of the mother eagle and her peers never relented.
These eagles are a sight to behold. They have grey and white feathers, their beaks are a stunning yellow and their eyes are blood shot red.You would catch your breath if you had come into eye contact with them. They are simply awesome.
I told my kids the plethora of events of the morning. The mood was somber as they started to imagine the catastrophe that had befallen the eagles. These eagles were our companions as we drank tea on the patio every evening. They swooned around the forest area right behind my house- father, mother and their babies. And today 2 of them are dead.
I took them to the location of the babies, but we could not venture too close because the mother eagle was still circulating the area- trying desperately to accept the cruel twist of fate that had befallen her babies. It was already noon, but for her, time had stood still the moment she discovered the bitter truth of her babies’ massacre. In utter disbelief and anarchy the mother eagle continued to scream and screech till dusk. Only when the sun was completely submerged did she stop her hysterical cries.
It was a day of reckoning for me. I actually felt the mother eagle’s excruciating pain. I felt her melancholy. I felt her loss. I felt her desperation. I felt her bewilderment. I felt her confusion. If only she could speak then the world will know that animals feel pain too.