Then the jerks started to make noise.
There's a pond nearby where large aquatic birds like to rest and/or have fights. I've heard ducks giving each other the business over there. But Canadian geese are another thing. Two of them seemed to be having a pissing contest, honking at each other with anger, rhythm, and volume. They were like two giant goose trucks backing up, or a couple of goose cars' alarms going off. I thought that they'd wake up the whole block.
Nipper did not like this one bit.
He growled at the sound, and with him the growl is the father of the bark. And he can bark. So people who had not been disturbed by the jerk geese would be disturbed by my dog, and pin the blame on us. Clearly, someone had to take action.
That person appeared to be Nipper, who wanted to go kill the geese. But I held on tight to the leash and we made our way to the pond to see the foul fowl. There they were, floating peacefully, honking away like billy-o. Nipper really hated all this. So I did what any self-respecting male would do. I found a rock and threw it.
Not at a goose; they were too far off, and whacking one might not stop the other. I plopped it nicely between them with a satisfying plunge, and the startled combatants squawked in fear and took flight. Their honks wore off with distance as they shot away into the breeze.
Nipper looked up at me with a big grin, like, "Holy cow, that was amazing!"
You're welcome, Nipper. And you, my neighbors. You may never know who saved your early Sunday rest, but Nipper does.
Jerk. |
Nipper did not like this one bit.
He growled at the sound, and with him the growl is the father of the bark. And he can bark. So people who had not been disturbed by the jerk geese would be disturbed by my dog, and pin the blame on us. Clearly, someone had to take action.
That person appeared to be Nipper, who wanted to go kill the geese. But I held on tight to the leash and we made our way to the pond to see the foul fowl. There they were, floating peacefully, honking away like billy-o. Nipper really hated all this. So I did what any self-respecting male would do. I found a rock and threw it.
Not at a goose; they were too far off, and whacking one might not stop the other. I plopped it nicely between them with a satisfying plunge, and the startled combatants squawked in fear and took flight. Their honks wore off with distance as they shot away into the breeze.
Nipper looked up at me with a big grin, like, "Holy cow, that was amazing!"
You're welcome, Nipper. And you, my neighbors. You may never know who saved your early Sunday rest, but Nipper does.
📣📣📣
On an unrelated note, big get-well wishes to our friend Mongo, who practiced his swan dive in an inappropriate place and suffered the consequences. God bless and get well, Mongo; no doubt you'll be punching horses again real soon.
5 comments:
you rock
Nipper hates geeses to pieces!
Thanks, Bear -- and Stiiv, you are a bird of a feather.
I learned a couple years ago it's never "Canadian Geese". It's "Canada Geese". We had two that tried to set up shop at our pond here. I have one in the freezer, and the other is presumably grieving elsewhere
Not a fan -- they love our local town park and crap all over the trails. You can't hurt them because they're protected, and you can't even break the eggs if there's a nest. At one point the town was aiming to paint the eggs with something that would prevent them from hatching. So, aborting Canada geese is bad, but stillbirth is okay. New York is insane and stupid.
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