The Tale Of The Goose: Honker's Story. (Part One)

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Memoir  |  House: Booksie Classic
A man remembers his pet goose, whom he had rescued when it was a gosling and raised it as his own.

Submitted: June 16, 2017

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Submitted: June 16, 2017

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Today I buried my beautiful goose, Honker.  He was eight years old.  He died last night; I already miss him.  He was my buddy, my closest friend.  I had raised him ever since he was a gosling; I had found him barely alive and I nursed him back to health.  He was an orphan; so I became his surrogate parent, as it were.  I loved him so much.

It was unclear as to what happened to Honker's parents, but I was determined to give this hapless creature a chance at life, so I took him in and did my best to bring him back.  He must have liked what I did because he was soon thriving and he would follow me around like a puppy, honking and flapping his wings like mad.  Therefore, I named my little feathered friend "Honker" .. and with good reason.

Honker was beautiful.  He grew into a stately male Canada goose with a long, black, curved neck,  a black head with a telltale white "chin strap", a brown body, and long, slender black legs that ended in two magnificent webbed feet.  He would honk with pleasure and was usually agreeable around people he knew; but if he felt threatened in any way, he would go chasing after unsuspecting animals, other birds, or humans with all the finesse and grace of a ninja; he did not take any guff from anybody and let them know it.  He would snap at their heels and peck until he drew blood at times, but he was only defending his territory.  He was a good watch-goose.  :)

Honker became well known around town.  He even ended up in the newspapers and even on television; people wanted to hear his story and were interested in how I, a lonely bachelor, adopted this once tiny bird and nursed him back to health.  They were enamored with his usually charming demeanor and enjoyed watching him play with me or the neighborhood kids or animals.  He was a very well behaved bird (for the most part) and loved being the center of attention.

Then the unthinkable happened yesterday afternoon.  Honker had been attacked by a fellow goose and was pecked badly; I took him to the vet, but his injuries were too severe; the vet suggested that I have him put down, but I said nothing doing; I would do I could to save his life; but God, apparently, had other plans: He decided it was time for Honker to join the Great Bird Aviary in the Sky; Honker passed away peacefully.  He did not suffer.  I held his head in my lap and stroked him as I softly talked to Honker and he slipped awy, gently, just like that.  I then cried and still am crying as I write this down.

The bird that had attacked Honker was one of the older residents of Mill Creek Farm, a ten year old grey goose named Hatcher.  Well, Hatcher is apparently the Head Bird around town and will let anybody know just how he feels; he does not hide his feelings, and in his older age, he has grown nasty and difficult to deal with; yet he remains a terrific watch-bird.  I have learned to stay away when  he is in one of his moods, but I had no idea that he would be the cause of Honker's demise.  So right now I'm deciding what to do with Hatcher The Galloping Grey Ghost: whether to cook him or to just let him go.  This isn't the first time he's gone after one of my animals (or people too, for that matter).  I can't have him hurting anybody or anything any longer.  The death of Honker has proven to be the last straw but right now I am too grief-stricken to deal with Hatcher's shenanigans.

*To be continued!*


© Copyright 2017 Karen Lynn. All rights reserved.

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