One of the very best things about the walk home is that I can take my time through the Black River Riparian Forest and Wetland; there’s a lot of wildlife out and about, and even if I make it down the trail without having seen any animals, it’s still a prettier walk than along the street. I see blue herons from time to time (of course, never when I’ve got a camera on me!), and lately I’ve been seeing loads of baby bunnies.
Yesterday, as I was walking home, I saw some geese with a bunch of fuzzy goslings AND I happened to have a non-cell-phone camera on me.
The goslings were adorable, and I wanted to get a closer picture of them–of course, as I attempted to sneak up on them like a lumbering elephant, the parents began to pump their necks at me like the avian version of air jordans and hissing, which, if you’ve never heard it, doesn’t sound all that threatening. Essentially, it looks like the bird is sticking its tongue out at you in a sassy manner.
I should have already learned my lesson about geese–once, when I was driving Jennzah back to her room at UW Parkside after a parental-forbidden excursion to Milwaukee, a flock of geese were blocking the road, preventing my ’88 Mercury Topaz named Bernard (which coughed blue smoke and stalled at intersections) from passing. I honked. They stayed put. I tried to drive forward to intimidate them into moving. They stayed put. It was then that Jennzah decided that she could chase them off the road on foot; why she thought this when they would not move for a sputtering deathmobile that could crunch them like ants, I do not know, but the fact remains that she got out of the car, ran into their midst, and with insane goose hivemind, they turned on her and chased her, screaming, back into my car.
Even though I remembered this incident, and was being warned by the parents not to approach their babies, I decided to try and get closer. Clearly, it was time for another Lesson About Geese.
As I approached, the parents began to herd the babies away from me, down into long grass, down to the water, places that made it yet more difficult to photograph them (and, let’s be honest, if I got very close, I probably would have tried to catch one. No, I don’t know what I’d do with it once I caught it–I’m not big on long-term planning.), forcing me to pursue them down the hill. Once the babies were safely shuffled away from me, that is when the lesson began.
I swear you could hear the goose honking “YOU SON OF A BITCH, I WARNED YOU, I FUCKING WARNED YOU” as it launched its surprising bulk into my face, wings flapping, beak seeking to blind me as I shrieked and ran backward into the street, almost getting both the goose and myself creamed by a car. The goose gave up the chase at that point while the occupants of the car pointed and laughed.
This morning, on my way to work, I swear I saw the same goose in the distance, giving me the eye. Can birds hold grudges?
Geese are evil. But awwww so cute.
(And I dunno about other birds, but corvids can have grudges on people.)
I maintain that goose forced me into traffic intentionally.
Yikes, scary goose stink eye! O.o Damn, geese are scary then, lol. Hopefully I won’t find myself in the same situation then.
Don’t go out of your way to piss off animals the way I do and you’ll be fine. 😀
My late grandmother used to tell the story of her brother getting a chunk of his ass ripped out by a gander because he got too close to the goslings – despite being warned many times to not go any where near them. Apparently Grandma’s mother used a sewing needle and thread to stitch the piece back in while he screamed in the yard. Needless to say, after that he stayed away from the geese.
AHAHAHA I guess I was lucky to escape intact, then!
agreed. why do i hate geese?
those fuckers bite.
luckily, i have never had bumchunks bitten, but fingers and other unnoodly appendages (like toes), yep.
and, having a decenty sense of smell, they’ll likely remember you.
Allllllll the more reason to get myself a car soon.
An armored, goose-hunting car.
I bet Emily’s seagull held a grudge.
hahahaha!
There’s a very easy way to deal with geese which always confuses the hell out of them. When they start hissing and making their wings bigger, do it right back at them.
They’re trying to look intimidating and they generally don’t realize that we’re bigger than them until we point it out to them in their own language. Wearing a jacket makes an even bigger impression.
As long as you don’t physically get any closer to their young, it’s all about intimidation.
(To wonder why this is awesome, it means that a 6’2″ guy with long hair who usually wears black, leather trench coats (i.e me) gets into hissing contests with geese. Consider how this looks to a passerby. You’re welcome. =D)
That sounds priceless, I would love to see it. 😀
You never know. =)
YES, birds have memories and can hold grudges. Just ask Emily. She decided once to start feeding the Stellar jays in our area peanuts. Word got around. (I’ll let Emily finish the story.)
My cat, Taxi, lost a toe to a goose once. They mean business.
Just when I think I’ve gathered all the grudges against me I could possibly have, I spread my territory out into the animal kingdom.
They’re not birds. They’re ex-dinosaurs. AND THEY REMEMBER.
I might have to amend this post to let everyone know I survived an ex-dinosaur attack. It sounds much scarier!
Ex Dinosaurs never forget. AND NEVER FORGIVE.