Upon meeting me, aside from the ol ASL (what with you seeing me and I don't generally inhabit an multidimensional dream world), one of the first things you'll learn about me is that I loathe geese.
When I was younger and visiting a zoo some exotic goose (but a goose none the less) stuck its long neck clear through the chain link fence and bit me on the leg. Instantly I developed a major disliking for the long necked birds (and a realization that chain link doesn't hold birds back, so I stopped building my chain link aviary). Ostriches and emus are given a wide berth, swans are only approachable in boat form.
But oh Canadian Geese. How I love making their lives a living hell. I like to think I'm giving the city a service keeping them from shitting all over everything and making a huge mess, but there's always one stupid person who feeds them and then no amount of chasing after them making weird noises will get rid of them.
There is one time, however, when I stop chasing the geese and let them be. When they have their babies out with them (and it isn't just because I have a fear of an angry goose mother stabbing me in the eye).
Somehow our local pond (which most would call a puddle, it's just that tiny) has attracted not one but two families.
One is clearly catholic:Mama or Daddy is forcing them into their bath or to get them away from the person snapping pictures.I think I counted 6 little fuzzy heads in there. The other goose family in contrast is clearly Protestant:The pair glides around with just the one baby and keeps him in check. My husband calls them the Yuppie Geese because they didn't want a whole bunch of kids to come in and ruin their fancy nests or take all their hard earned grain.
There really wasn't much point to this post except to say I hate geese, babies are cute no matter what species they are, and I hope everyone has a great memorial day weekend (someone better warn me when I can stop saying that, I'll probably forget).