Reader discretion is advised. If you have little ones who love animals, don’t read them this one!
When I was about 8 or 9 my parents bought us a baby goose early in the spring. He was so cute; Yellow and furry when we first got him.
Charlie stayed in the barn when he was young, and each day we would go out to the barn to feed and play with him. We would bring him into the yard and chase him around the grass.
As Charlie grew older, he was allowed to wander around the yard, freely. In the absence of a dog at the time, Charlie made an exceptional “watchduck.”
Anytime someone would drive in the driveway, Charlie would run up to their car, honking and raising his wings, as if he was about to attack. I don’t think he ever did attack anyone, but it sure freaked people out.
As Charlie grew older, he became fond of hanging out by the back door, waiting for us to come out.
The trouble with that is that the back patio became his favourite spot to poop. There was goose poop all over the place. We would have to go out and hose it off every day or two.
My parents were not thrilled with Charlie.
Early on a Sunday morning, we woke up and Charlie was nowhere to be found. Maybe he got attacked by something? Racoon? Dog? Coyote? Fox?
Carla & I were worried.
We headed out to church, but my sister and I were bothered that Charlie was missing. When we came home, he was still missing.
And then it was time for lunch…
On the table was the usual “after church” type of meal. Potatoes, vegetables, gravy…and a “chicken” as it was explained to us.
I’d never seen a chicken that large or that dark and greasy. Something wasn’t right.
Then reality set in, and we knew where Charlie went… 🙁
We went hungry that meal, protesting by not eating, but honestly, I was a farm kid, I should have known the signs.
Why in the world would a farmer buy a baby goose (or duckling, or chick) in the spring? There was one purpose for Charlie all along.