Looking through old Truprint envelopes the other day, I came across two snapshots of my sister's geese. She had these two about 35 years ago, and they were vicious brutes. Worse than any guard dogs - in fact, all the dogs would steer well clear of them. Especially when they put their heads down, as in the photo above... that meant they were going in for the attack.
Sometimes I'd be given the job of herding them back into their hut on a night time, which is probably when I took these photos. They would go, if you stood your ground, but it was best to go armed with a stick for defense in case they turned on you. They liked a good ruck.
They weren't the worst geese I ever encountered though. There were a couple on a neighbouring farm that were even more savage. One day, I went with my dad to fetch a couple of cows back from a field he'd been renting near that farm. Dad gave me the job of leading a particularly flighty young calf back with a rope round its neck to stop it running away. I was basically walking the calf like a dog on a lead. Until we passed the open farmyard where the diabolical geese lived. They came out charging, hissing, wings up, terrifying the little calf, which set off at full pelt down the lane... dragging me behind it like a stuntman in a Western. When the calf finally stopped, I was covered in cuts and grazes... but at least the geese hadn't got me.
Here are some geese songs...
No comments:
Post a Comment