Feathery terrorism

Yesterday morning as I scurried across campus, late for my class, I saw a pair of Canadian geese in flight. Not too far from where they were was another goose that quacked at them. It sure got their attention as they landed not too far from where it was. I made my way to class and soon those geese were well forgotten.

After class, as I retraced my steps across campus on my way to catch a bus. I heard those geese again. I looked all over and could not see them. The quacking got louder and  I noticed the pair above a building. I went my way and as with my earlier encounter with the pair I soon forgot about them.

It wasn't until at some odd hour of the night that I woke up and thought about that pair of geese. You see Canadian geese are not popular birds , they are often a nuisance. You do not want to walk across a lawn where these birds have been around, they are messy. I remember a year or so ago at church we had an exercise where we would go to the the open space outside our church to pray. When we prayed we would take off our shoes and Pastor would always caution people to be careful on that lawn , it had been home to a flock of geese.

I remember a few years ago the city was on about the droppings of Canadian geese making their way into the rivers and eventually into the lake, and the environmental impact it had. And the plane that ended up on the Hudson River, the geese were to blame.

For some reason this pair reminded me of a pair of white geese we had growing up. I grew up on a farm. When I was younger growing up on a farm was something I detested, it wasn't cool or hip. Now anytime I fly home, the farm is my favourite place. It is serene, away from all the hustle and bustle, and I feel in touch with nature.

On the farm at some given time we had animals that you would not typically find domesticated in a black-owned farm. At one point we had a tortoise, found by the guys while herding cows. We also had a baby monkey, abandoned by it's mother while a troupe of monkeys which was raiding the maize from the fields was scared off by a single shot from my dad's rifle. I will tell the tale of the monkey in another post . We also had a hedgehog  too, it was found in the fields as well.

Back to the geese. I do not remember when we got them, but as far as my memory serves me, we brought them to the farm from our house in Killarney. For the most part  they were peace loving birds. they never had any chicks so maybe they were the same sex, I mean as weird as this may sound , how does one determine the sex of a goose? There were a few instances when they unleashed a reign of feathery terror. The victims were my young sister, my late aunt Portia, I think at some point my mum may have fallen victim too , but their favourite pick was my brother, and maybe because he was as tall as they were.

My brother was born when I was 6 yrs old. While bother my young sister and I enjoyed having him around, she always seemed better at playing with him and making him stop crying, she was better but she always dodged taking care of him. I on the other would play with him, but when he cried I could never get him to keep quiet, until one day I had an aha moment. I stuck his thumb into his mouth. Little bugger latched onto that thumb, and that was his new soother. Unfortunately, it gave birth to a habit that lingered on for years.

Just as much as he loved his thumb, it seemed to have caught the attention of the geese. Anytime that lil fella would dart across the yard, the geese would go after him , and with their beaks yank at his thumb. Maybe they too needed to get a taste of that scrumptious little thumb.

My young sister used to be chased by the geese. Maybe this was how she turned out to be a fast runner. All that outrunning of the geese was training for her. As for mum and aunt Portia, they kind of looked alike,and anytime she would visit my mum would give her some of her clothes to wear. I do not know what it was about one particular skirt , but the geese would attack.Again I am not too sure if they were attracted to the skirt or repelled by it , but they would attack, all the while while I always peered through some window and literally rolled with laughter.

What happened to the 2 geese is a  rather mirky memory. I think one was attacked by a snake and because the remaining goose was lonely I think it was slaughtered and cooked for the dogs.