The Goose-pocalypse

Today was the most epic of days. The day to end all days. The day I will never forget–one that I’ll recall upon my death bed.

The day that I pet a goose.



After years of goose stalking, (see post here) I found one Canadian goose amenable to my loving advances. I just never knew it would be a yankee goose since I’ve always chased after southern ones. My husband better appreciate that I didn’t take that goose home because you have NO IDEA how hard it was for me to not just pick him up, squeeze him, and run. Trust me, I would have had it not been a bit unheard of to have a goose in a NYC apartment. He was the perfect candidate to make a pet though. He not only loved my neck scratches and back rubs but he was a loner who was grazing by himself away from the rest of his flock. I made him return to his fellow geese mates, though, before leaving so I wouldn’t have to worry about him being left behind.



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