Part 1 – The Canadian Geese

Hi. I’m papa-goose, the Canadian Goose. They call me papa-goose. Duh. This is my family, there, on the grass. Yes, it’s pretty good size. Now tell me true… er, hold on a second…

Me: Honey, the kids are going too far off the path, I think you should bring them back, eh?

Mama-goose: Hey you fat goose, can’t you see I’m busy chasing off the silly human in high heels? Bring them back yourself!

Whoa, she must be pissed. One of our distant cousins ended up in a fois gras terrine after intense gavage and the term fat has since then been banned in our family. I’d better get them.

Me: Kids, come back here at once or I’ll pluck the feathers off your sorry tail!

Goosito 1: Couac!

Goosito 2: Couac, couac!

Goosito 3: Couac, couac, couac!

Goosito 5: Couac, couac, couac, couac, couac!

Goosito 4: Clouacl.

Me: Number 4, you must make a pronunciation effort, eh, it’s been weeks, you’re too old to lutter your couacs!

Goosito 4: Clouacl!

Sigh. There’s always one who has to be different. At least, none of them turned out black this time around.

Me: Kids, I’ve told you a hundred times, don’t eat the flowers, they give you cramps! Remember your six G’s: Grazing Green Grass is Good for Goose Growth. I won’t couac it again.

Mama-goose: Hey, stop it! I saw you!

Me: What’s that, my sweet down feather?

Mama-goose: You were waving your neck at that cute swan over there. You should be ashamed! Why not a sheep while you’re at it?

She’s definitely pissed. I mean, that swan is hot, but she’s twice my size and there’s really too much feather on her, I like a bird’s feathers trimmed. Oh, speaking of feathers, there comes the tall human without one on his head. He’d look ok if he had a larger beak. Well, he’s not running today. Still walks like a duck, though. Ha! Ducks are stupid. When I go talk to them and say ‘duck’, there are always a couple who crouch instinctively. Idiots! Oh bummer, the human has got his clicking tube with him today, I guess we’re going to the zoo.

Me: Honey, the human with the plucked head is coming this way. I know him, ok? As long as he stays a few feet away, let him wave his black tube around. If he gets too close, hiss at him. I’ll be over there.

Mother of all goose livers! that human is tall. I hate going to the zoo. Those humans are so ugly. Well, I should lead by example. Let’s not fear him. After all this is the Stanley Park neutral zone. We tolerate them here.

Me: Kids, let’s try to look organized here, make me proud. We’re going to march to our anti-duck litany. [clearing throat] Ready? We’ll start in C Major: A,F,F,C,F,F,A… A,F,F,C,F,G,F. Repeat after me…

All goositos: Coua-ac!!!!

Me [military drill style]: We are mighty-geese, we are not duck(s),

All goositos: We are mytea cleecks, we couac not ducks,

 Goosito 4[off beat]: … clouac clocks,

Me: Humans don’t-want our-grease but ducks they pluck.

All goositos: Yumaans dont wanta crease but couacs they couac.

Me: We are the-police while ducks play-in the-muck,

All goositos: We are the pofleece while couacs playin the luck,

Me: They leave-us in-peace so we don’t-give a-f…

Mama-goose: HONEY!? $%#$@!!!!!!!!!!!!??

Part 2 – The Raccoon

It’s not nighttime yet, but it could be. And there is no moon tonight. But I’m in a good mood and I like the song. It was just playing out loud from a biker’s portable radio…

Me[singing]: It was a moonlit night in old Mexico Stanley Park. I walked alone between some old adobe haciendas. Suddenly, I heard the plaintive cry of a young Mexican female raccoon… La-lalaaaaa, la-lalala la lalalaaaaa, la lalala la-lalalaaaa, la-la-la-la-la-la-lalaaaaaaaaaaa. You better come home BushyTail Gonzales…

I mean, if it was up to me, I’d take off my bandit mask and let her see my soul naked, as I am deep inside, an honest clam-loving, food-washing, goose-hating raccoon. But, well, I’m too shy to go against the establishment. Oh, here she comes. Bloody animal behavior guidelines. Now I have to chase her around so that she’ll think I’m normal.

Me: Hi honey, do you clam here often?

Miss-raccoon: Bug off, you walking Davy Crockett hat. I’m busy. Beside, there’s a human waving a clicking tube at me and I’m trying to look presentable. You’re standing in the way.

Me[sigh]: Well, let me chase you around for a while, to remind you of who’s wearing the fur around here.

Huff, huff, she got away. That raccoon can run. But I’ll find her and…Holy paws! what’s that? Oh, it’s the human’s feet. I almost stepped on him. Those humans are so careless. I can’t interrupt everything I’m doing just to watch out for humans. But then if I touch one, it would probably accuse me of harassment. Ok, where is she? Hm, what’s that? No????? My friends, I just found an almost INTACT MacHuman dog treat biscuit, roast beef flavored if I’m correct. I’m going to go wash it right away. I hope the geese have cleared the pond.

Me: Hey greasy goose, scram. I gotta wash my dinner, you dumb feathered volatile.

Papa-goose: Guys, look at the thief. Probably stole his dinner from some poor old dog and now wants to eat in peace? I don’t think so! Let’s surround him. Look at him walk. I think he’s constipated. Hahaha!

All goositos: Ha-ha-couac!

Me: You fool, you walk like a duck and your clumsy webbed feet are barely good enough to stand on. Look at me! Can you do that? Can you hold your food in your hands, uh, uh? Can you climb on a log and spin it around? Go feed some French restaurant patrons and leave me alone.

Papa-goose: If you don’t watch your mouth, furry mammal, you’re going to get your raccoon tail shoved up your…

Mama-goose: HONEY!!!%$#@$%$#@!!!!??

Part 3 – The White Swan

Zzzzzzzzzzzzz. Uh? The eggs!? Ok, they’re still there, still warm. Sleepy. Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.
[no photo available; blame it on the raccoon]

Part 4 – The Chickadee

 Where are the bloody human crawlers? Ah, there comes one. Bloody better have food, that one. I’m bloody starved. Let’s go.
[no photo available; blame it on the geese]

Me: Gooseman, this is Maverick, commencing dive-bombing run now.

Papa-goose: uh?

Gooseman: Roger Maverick, go get ’em son. And report any seed sighting.

Nose down, full throttle, afterburners on. The wind hissing in my ears, my beak heating up as I approach Mach 1… Oh no! What the flock?

Me: I missed, I missed, I couldn’t get close enough, the glare from that featherless head is too strong, I can’t control my descent, I’m in a flat spin… Gooooose!

Papa-goose: uh?

Gooseman: Pull up, Maverick, pull up!

Me: Aaaarrrggghhhhhhh!

Gooseman: Come in, Mav’, come in! Are you still airworthy? …

Me: Crunch. Yup. Crunch. I missed the human but I nailed the raccoon’s dog treat. Not bad. If only I had a few seeds for seasoning…

Part 5 – The Grey Heron

Fishy-fishy-fishy-fishiiiiies. Where are you? I know you’re there. So I will not move. I am a rock. I am a statue. I am a pylon. I am as still as the Lady in a Westsuit with all the guano on her head, god bless the seagull scoundrels. I am as still as a sleeping goose – ha, I like that one. Fishieees? I will let you come to me. If only the stupid human could stop following me and aiming that clicking tube at me. It distracts me. I’d like to see him trying to eat a picnic on the beach with me staring at his food and… Hop, gotcha. Yum, tasty little bugger. An eel, aren’t you? Stop wiggling in my beak, you’re tickling me. You must have brothers. I’m not moving. I am a statue. I am… Yawn…

Part 6 – The Human

The animals got boring. They are so poetic it’s unbearable. They’re cute, never mean to each other, focused on what matters (civil manners), we should learn from them. And I was shooting hand-held at high ISO any way. The shots are grainy, blurry or both. But this sunset isn’t half bad after all. It’s inspiring. To be or not to be? Cogito ergo sum. E=mc2. 42. Sweet bananas.