Die! Goose! Die!
So those of you who know me, know that I am an unabashed animal lover. I pick up earthworms off of hot pavement, I spoil my cat rotten and I damn near needed therapy when I accidentally ran over a baby bird mowing my backyard. (That coupled with the discovery of a tick on my clothes prompted for extra overtime so I can pay a nice college boy to mow my lawn, that was two years ago).
Anyway. I love animals.
Except Geese. I hate those bastards with a passion. Now there is a caveat. I love goslings. They are an exception since they are so damn cute, but once they become adults all bets are off. Once they mature they become assholes.
The picture above is the asshole goose that has become the bane of my existence.
For the past two years, every spring, I live in fear. Every spring this goose’s idiotic mate lays eggs right near the entrance of the building where I work and this macho featherbrain has to protect every square inch in a two mile radius.
Every spring its the same thing. Early April we show up to work and long, green cylinder tubes of goose shit cover nearly every inch of the walkways leading up to the building. By mid April KillerGoose starts making his rounds. Last year I was walking up to the door at work and he steps onto the sidewalk in front of me. I’m sipping my Iced Caramel Machiatto and feeling pretty good because I’m kinda early. I take a few steps and all cute like I’m like “Shoo shoo”.
This goose becomes something out of a horror movie. He opens that god awful mouth and this demon like hiss erupts. My blood runs cold. It is only then do I realize that my dumb 5’3 self isn’t much taller or bigger than this monster. He opens up his wings and hisses again.
I, homo sapien, top of the food chain with a genius level IQ back down from a damn goose. I walk the long way around to the door completely rattled. Evil Bastid!
This year I’m thinking that he has moved to Florida, or hopefully got hit by a car and I would be safe. But no! He was there. Waiting. I get out of my car and I’m like. That can’t be the same bird. Now mind you I am across the lawn looking at him. I shut my car door and his little head swivels around and he stares me down with his beady eyes. He recognizes me! I know he does. He follows my steps all the way to the door. Heart racing I rush inside and pull the door shut behind me.
I hate geese, I really do, but I cannot do anything about it. If this spawn of Satan flies at me and I “happen” to be carrying a baseball bat for protection, and kill this sucker I could be facing fines! Not little fines either the fines range from $5,000 to $10,000 dollars!
Didn’t these things used to be dinner? Christmas Goose right? Wrong! As of 1918 these bastards were under Federal protection.
All I can do is pray that the babies hatch soon and they head to water. Once they are on the move they will disrupt traffic with their clumsy drunken waddle. You have to wait for each dumb bird of the flock to figure out they want to cross the street. It can take 5-15 minutes for them all to get across. That is if you’re lucky and you’re not waiting for the brain damaged one who wants to walk North/South instead of East/West. I love spring, but I hate geese!!!
Die Goose Die!
“Canada Geese are protected under the Federal Migratory Bird Act of 1918 . This Act makes it illegal to harm or injure a goose and damage or move its eggs and nest, without a Federal permit. Not complying with the Federal Act can result in fines ranging from $5,000 to $10,000 and this also applies to an untrained dog’s actions.”