Growing up, my family lived in rural suburbia, an area with horse trails instead of sidewalks and the earthy smell of dairy cows in the air. We had a pet emu, called Emu. Emu lived in the back corner of our yard, beside the chicken coop, fenced in with a shoulder-height chain-link fence and a make-shift gate secured by a pretty flimsy piece of wire. Emu spent most of her day snapping at the air, head tilted to one side, as if she was very confused. One day, there was a big commotion in the back yard. The chicken coop was in a frenzy, all squawking and flying feathers. My
