Hilarious story about a grumpy goose and siblings. Read and be enchanted.
I seem to have a bad luck streak regarding birds. This is probably one of the reasons I feel totally okay about eating them. The first fowl experience was The Mad Queen and the hits just keep coming.
For example, I’ve been hit in the nuts by a haunted plastic goose.
When M.I.L.K. and I were small, our mom took us to a duck pond in Palo Alto. We jumped out of the car, each clutching a loaf of stale bread, and ran to feed the duckies. We got to the water line and began frantically shredding and tossing bread to a bunch of enthusiastic ducks. The duck feeding was going swimmingly when a goose almost as tall as me, and easily eye to eye with M.I.L.K. ran towards us. Neat, I thought.
But this goose didn’t want to be fed, it wanted to hunt.
I was in awe…
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