Canada Geese: Agents of Rage and Mayhem

Canada Geese scare me.

I say this with the full knowledge that I am an adult who outweighs a goose by at least a hundred pounds and has access to technology and opposable thumbs. But still—geese. They possess the energy of something deeply wronged in a past life. Rage, fury, and hellfire all packaged into a neatly feathered and honking bird.

Having been born and raised in Canada, one would think that I would share an affinity with my avian brethren. One would expect that they’d sense I’m one of their own and nod politely as I walk by. But no. Every time I see one, the birds turn their beady little eyes at me warning me to stay away. In truth, I know not why they’re so angry. Maybe their babies are near by. Maybe they’ve got some unresolved trauma from an overly affectionate toddler. Maybe they’re just hangry.

But the truth is, I’ll probably never know. And I’m starting to think that’s okay. Some things in life—like goose rage —just aren’t meant to be fully understood.

Just like I wouldn’t charge at a goose mid-hiss, I probably shouldn’t charge into a heated moment mid-trigger. I’ve heard a little breathing helps. A small pause that reminds me to consider my actions first and to check-in on my emotions. Perhaps a little empathy could help too. Maybe during my next encounter, I’ll talk to the birds to see how their day was or maybe give them a peace offering of some bread?

Or maybe I should just read the park signs and leave the animals alone.