I know the song is for web-footed friends, but I'm talking about birds today.
(A side note on my previous post: Some people presented some valid reasons for horn honking on my blog and on facebook. I still don't know if I'll ever use mine though. I just never think of it fast enough since I'm out of practice. (And I really do think slowly sometimes.) It does sound like a good idea if someone is about to run into me though, and I can't move (like if I'm in a parking lot with no room to maneuver). I still maintain however that honking usually does little good except to vent. The person either knew what he/she was doing and already felt bad or didn't know what he/she was doing and will probably continue to drive obliviously.)
Okay, back to the birds.
Jill loves animals. I don't think she has met an animal (or person for that matter) that she hasn't liked. She even (ew) gives kisses to her uncle's pet rat. (The rat is very clean and a pet—not a stray.)
There is a lake near her paternal grandparents' house that has lots of ducks. We've taken Jill there a few times and have tried to get her to feed the ducks. She has had issues with giving the bread to the ducks. She thinks she should get to eat the bread. Understandable. However, she LOVES the ducks. They just make her so happy.
The other day, Jill and I went to a park near our house. I have seen ducks at the lake there in the past, but this particular day there were no ducks in sight—only geese. Also present at the park was a sign that said to not feed the geese. I had no problem obeying that sign. I remember being slightly afraid of the geese that hung out around the soccer field when I was in high school and being forced to run. I always thought one might nip at my heels.
So, Jill and I are eating our lunch at the park, and the geese take notice. And they come. Oh do they come. Personal space was invaded. I couldn't believe how close they got! Obviously other people have not obeyed the sign, because I imagine they would not be so forward if they haven't been rewarded before.
I WAS TERRIFIED. A few times Jill would point at them, and sometimes she had food in her hand. I really thought my beautiful baby girl was going to lose a finger by a greedy goose vying for her food. And I couldn't keep my eye on them all. They popped up on the left, the right, BEHIND, and UNDER THE TABLE. No location was sacred to these geese. They played it really smart, too. They would leave us alone all of a sudden, but then come back.
As you see, there are two of the forward geese, Jill's head, and the picnic table we were sitting at. I couldn't believe how close they kept coming! Now mind you none of them actually ever tried anything, but I was still so scared.
It was really interesting in retrospect, because I haven't been that scared in a long time. And when I think about it, I have never heard of a goose removing fingers of children. I have heard of them breaking skin and causing bleeding, but I've never heard of limb removal via geese. Nevertheless, I was completely struck with fear. Have you been scared recently? It's quite a unique feeling. I hope I don't feel it again for a long time.
A humorous note: Amidst my terror, I actually had a big surprise, because at one point, one of the geese BURPED! I have never heard a goose burp before, nor have I ever considered it a possibility that a goose was capable of burping, but it happened. I wonder if the goose had gotten into some soda pop . . .
So has anything given you the willies recently? The heeby jeebies? And has the fear-inducing agent been, by any chance, something much smaller than you and relatively harmless? I feel so silly for quaking in my boots (*cough* flip flops) over GEESE. Geese. Goodness.
What is the point of growing up if I am still afraid of things like geese?
Although in my defense, my main fear was of my daughter losing a finger, not of myself.
And I have to wonder why she finally decides to master the concept of offering food to our feathered friends when we're dealing with geese instead of ducks. Jill . . .