Goose Stories: Twenty-Four

 

There are others who feed Analdas, and they call him Pierre, but I didn’t learn that until after I’d been watching him for a while and named him myself.

Today I have forgotten to bring food, but I pass a regular walker along the path and she informs me that the geese have been fed twice and there is a great deal of squabbling going on.  I know know this won’t be good for Analdas.

He’s standing off to one side, then approaches when he sees me.

 

 

But then we both get distracted by the arrival of the goslings.

 

Analdas

 

I wonder if he is looking for Borka, or if she is there.  The geese have their full attention on the little ones and pay no regard to the ganders.

Perhaps to make way for the goslings, the flock moves off into the lake, and I draw Analdas up to a patch of food that’s still there.

 

 

Then things switch again; the goslings take to the water and the flock comes back to shore where two of them attack Analdas in succession, biting at his good wing.  There’s reason for him to be wary of the group.

 

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