From the perspective of a German goose, the equivalent of US Thanksgiving is Martinmas: Day of Horror, Grief and Mourning.
So, I thought it would be a good idea to check on those white big birds I always pass on one of my short routes for single speeding – have they gotten away scot-free from last Sunday’s Martinmas?
It was with quite some relief that I found not too many of them missing on my patrol ride yesterday. Then again – shocking afterthought – Germans are fond of roast goose all through the Winter, at least until Christmas… So, I will better check again now and again, if my feathered friends are still around (I have a feeling there won’t be too many left by Christmas time, as they have been visibly gaining weight over the last two or three weeks).
However, I do take some comfort in the successful self-defense by reckless individuals of the species that have come to their five minutes of historical Hollywood fame (as Andy Warhol may have put it) by undaunting attacks against men and his best friend:
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