A Tail Told by Country

Spring is Sprung and I've Been Goosed!

I have been so miserable since I lost Pepper, I think my furry guy looked down from the Bridge and decided it was about time to lighten things up.

When I went out to do the feeding chores tonight, our ordinarily docile goose decided to attack me. However, there was no animosity in the attack, since his little goose mind seemed to be filled with thoughts of love/lust/whoopi instead, …with me as the object of his affections! (Now, I may not be "supermodel" material, but, on the other hand, I certainly never thought of myself as "gooselike" either. Of course, I have never looked at myself from a "goose-eye" view, so maybe it is just a matter of perspective.)

The whole time I was in the pen trying to fill food bowls, this crazy goose was trying his best to jump on my foot/leg/whatever. To make matters worse, when I tried to push him off, he apparently thought my hand and arm looked like a rival goose, because he would bite at my arm at the same time he was trying to romance my leg. Deciding the best approach would be to ignore Goosie, I continued with chores, closely followed by a frustrated goose trying his best to keep up with me. Everything went smoothly until I tried to retrieve the eggs from the small goat barn. It has a dutch door and the top is wired shut during the winter, so of course I have to stoop to my hands and knees to reach in for the eggs. Well, hot ziggity, now Goosie gets really excited and he grabs onto my jeans with his beak and starts doing a little goosie love dance. By this time, I am starting to think what this would look like to anyone driving up the driveway, so I get the giggles. Goosie apparently thinks my giggles are goose talk for "Come on baby" and he gets even more excited. He's stamping his little feet, head bobbing up and down, wings flapping, turning in circles and honking wildly. When I am finally able to quit laughing and stand up, I find that Goosie has somehow gotten his beak caught in the back pocket of my jeans, and I have this big white flailing bird attached to my back side. It's apparent that Goosie has lost all thoughts of romance and is interested only in escaping from his former true love. I try to help, but my efforts are hampered by the two buckets I am carrying - one of them full of eggs! To add to my problems, the 3 pygmy goats apparently think that this looks like a great game and they promptly decide to join in the fun. Inky gets hold of the string in my jacket and it starts rapidly disappearing into her mouth. Squeaks is rearing up and trying to butt at Goosie but keeps hitting me instead, and Gizmo keeps making a grab for the bucket with the eggs in it. I am swinging around wildly, trying to dislodge Goosie and goats, but only succeed in dumping the bucket of eggs. Luckily, the goats decide that a pile of broken eggs might be even more interesting than the crazylady-goose combo and they stop to check them out. With them out of the picture, I am finally able to get Goosie's beak out of my pocket and manage to get out of the gate, …minus Goosie, eggs and even a shred of dignity.

When I got to the house, I told Lou about my adventure, ending with the speculation that perhaps I am the Demi Moore of Goosedom. He responded by telling me that Goosie was probably just attracted to my white snowboots rather than to me personally. Sheesh, what a bubble burster. Not that I was especially thrilled to be Goosie's love goddess, but Lou could have been a little kinder about it. Anyway, to check out his theory, I changed to my black boots and headed back out to the pen. I didn't even get the gate closed before Goosie was once again in hot pursuit.

So, neener, neener, neener. I still got it baby.

And best of all, I know that Pepper was looking down on the whole fiasco, smiling his sweet doggie smile, and loving every minute of it.

Copyright © 1998, 2000 by Sheri Minkner. Reprinted with permission of the author.