2005apr28. The geese still don’t get toes. I like to sit down and watch the geese; Casati likes to sit between my feet and nibble on my sandals and the various toes poking out of them. You can tell her ten thousand times not to nibble, you can clamp her beak shut, you can tap her head, speak sternly, nothing helps. I don’t know how they figured out not to bite fingers (for the most part), but toes are still 100% food. The exciting new food item on their list is any shirt I’m wearing – when I sit down, they’ll sneak around to the back of the chair and all four of them will eventually be tugging on my shirt, like they all want to be excused to use the bathroom. Don’t I wish.
Today the geese also enjoyed some peaches, eventually. I left out a chopped peach and everyone took a nibble then shook their heads like it was some kind of allergen. I kept putting a small bit up to Casati’s bill and eventually she tried it – followed by more head-shaking, more walking away. So I left for an hour, came back, and all the peach chunks were gone. I think they hid them somewhere. They also gave a complete pass to bread. I’m sure they’ll come around on that one someday.
The intensity of their spazzing continues to grow. When I take off the pen door they know I’m coming in, but they all gather in front to rasp/chirp, except when that big sandal comes straight for them – then they get scared out of their wits. This happens several times a day. I try to move slow, but invariably one of them will work itself into a corner that I’m slowly approaching so I have to alter my course a little bit, let them find the escape route, scream a little, etc. From what I understand it’s two or three more weeks of this then they’ll paste the voice and the face together with the big menacing thing shambling around the pen.
Will a goose take a crap then will another goose immediately plop down on top of it? Of course.