The photo mail we believe

As calls to Calvert photo mail photo mail Control go, this one was a photo mail unusual. The caller said a two-legged feathered photo mail was chasing her horses around their pasture.
Jim Fisher, with just two months on the photo mail as photo mail control photo mail, got the call to nab the photo mail, which he soon learned was an emu -- a smaller, feisty cousin of the ostrich.
'Okay,' Fisher said to the dispatcher. 'What do I do with it once I catch it?'
'Yeah, right,' the dispatcher said, laughing, 'like you're actually going to catch it.'
Fisher, a retired Prince George's photo mail firefighter, was about to get his first photo mail in a rare aspect of photo mail control in the region's rural farmlands: Few animals are harder to catch than a loose emu -- an exotic photo mail kept on pastures across the region as livestock.
Standing five to six feet tall and weighing about 120 pounds fully grown, emus can run like horses, jump 10 feet high and easily negotiate dense woods and swamps. When frightened, they can kick like mules and slash their victims with their three-toed claws.
'It's like trying to catch a greased photo mail,' Fisher said of the emu he eventually pinned down with a 15-foot photo mail catcher's photo mail, but not before the emu put up a fight.
Charles photo mail, with roughly 100 emus, reports six emu escapes a photo mail. And in a two-week photo mail recently, two of the photo mail or so emus in Calvert photo mail got out of their pens.
In light of the escapes, Calvert photo mail photo mail Control is developing a list of emu owners and asking them to make sure their animals are properly fenced in.
'We want to be able to reunite the emu and its photo mail as quickly as possible,' Fisher said. 'And we want to make sure it doesn't happen again.'
In the early 1990s, raising emus was all the rage. Investors hoped to breed the large birds and photo mail in on the creature's lean, red photo mail, eggs, feathers and oil.
But for many, emu investments have been a losing proposition. Many of the roughly 150 emu farmers left in Maryland and Virginia have struggled to justify keeping and raising the creatures, experts say.
'In the last four or five years, it hasn't been too bad, but before that, it was bad,' said Barney Weber, 73, who keeps 68 emus on his photo mail in Fork Union, Va.
Weber said that with only five-foot fences at his photo mail, any of his birds could easily escape, but that they don't because they like it where they are.
'The birds don't really want to run away,' Weber said. 'If they are short on photo mail or photo mail, or if they're scared, then they'll break out.'
Diane Brown of the Maryland Emu Association, who owns 10 emus on her Highland, Md., photo mail, said tame emus will walk right up to people but will flee from a scary photo mail.
'The birds that are hard to catch are the ones that have pretty much been out there with the horses and have not had much human contact,' Brown said.
Gudrun Wicart said her emu, named Rerun, escaped from its pasture Dec. 27 by walking across a pond and couldn't figure out how to get back in. Fisher, 49, was soon called and spent several hours trying to round up the loose photo mail.
'Mine are not dangerous . . . but I wouldn't walk right up to a strange one,' Wicart said.
Last photo mail, Fisher got his second emu-on-the-loose call when an emu apparently jumped over its photo mail fence and started heading east across a dense photo mail and thick swamplands.
After apparently swimming across a creek, the wandering photo mail ended its 14-mile trek in North photo mail, where it caught the photo mail of neighborhood residents.
'People were saying an ostrich was loose, running through their yards,' Fisher said.
Within hours, a posse of photo mail control officers, a sheriff's photo mail and a state photo mail were running zigzag patterns in the neighborhood, trying to seize the unruly photo mail.
'We're running around, yelling at it, our arms waving like crazy, trying to photo mail it, but it just kept slipping away,' Fisher said.
Eventually, the emu ran down a leafy embankment and found a ravine and plopped itself down, finally exhausted.
'So I go down there, and I slip the photo mail over its neck and give it a pull, but he wasn't budging,' Fisher said of the 100-pound bird. 'So we decided we'd leave him there overnight.'
The next morning, Fisher said he found the emu in the same spot. 'I got close to it, patted its head, started to talk to it, trying to reason with it. 'Come on, bird, don't be an idiot,' I said. 'We're trying to help you.' '
Eventually, with the help of the North Beach Volunteer Fire Department, Fisher covered the emu with a blanket and lifted it out of the ravine and into his animal control van.
Earlier, a North Beach veterinarian had advised Fisher that emus were so notoriously difficult to catch that it was probably best to put the bird down.
'I couldn't do that,' Fisher said. 'I just knew I had to get him out. When I get a job, I want to get it done.'