Seeing as how Bryon and I spend abundant amounts of time together, it’s not strange that we recently had similar ideas for journal subject matter. But I had already started my post, so I claimed dibs. Regardless, this entry is connected to his next one, much like everything intertwines here at Star & Sparrow.

When Bryon asked for my Christmas gift suggestions, the last item on the list was Sammy for dinner. I was mostly kidding. Back in June, Samson and Delilah’s arrival did lead to visions of Christmas goose dancing in our heads. But the two eggs Delilah laid before breeding season ended did not hatch. And our Chinese geese are well past the age of tenderness. So we resigned ourselves to wait patiently until February when eggs should reappear and we can try again.

Patience is not a virtue one would ascribe to Sammy. He often gives me his evil side eye and sometimes lunges at me while I’m in the pen feeding the birds. What, am I not pouring your water and grain fast enough? Do you not approve of these greens and veggies I bring as treats? Luckily, he can’t do that much damage, and I’m usually wearing work boots and my thick waterproof pants while I’m in there. But it’s still disturbing to have a large gander coming at you while honking and lowering his head for an attack.

Ah, the incessant honking. Bryon reminds me that it’s part of what makes Sammy good at his job as guard dog. Delilah, too, since she often finds the cacophony irresistible. And they do seem to be effective. We’ve seen plenty of evidence that coyotes pass near the bird pens at night, so it’s likely the coyotes find the geese as annoying as I do.

On the other hand, Sammy has been a bad influence on our rooster, Merle. I didn’t have any problems with our roo until a few weeks ago—right about when the gander seemed to get his feathers in more of a huff than usual. Merle has come at me several times, and I know Bryon has gotten a laugh as I hollered and scrambled over the fence to get away from the beak and spurs. (Side note: this is a open-and-shut case of gender harassment, as neither Sammy nor Merle bother Bryon.)

I have had several stern conversations with Merle, letting him know in no uncertain terms that he can be replaced. Mini Merle— from the next generation flock—towers over his siblings and has already started crowing, though it’s somewhat anemic. I would be glad to consider him the new and improved version. Except we aren’t sure which of the hens is his mother, and Bryon thinks Junior might not be as good a breeder as the original Mr. Haggard. So Merle has a reprieve for now, and I carry a broom into the pen with me at times to show him who’s boss.

Meanwhile, I spotted a present under the tree that says it’s from Sammy and Merle to Bryon. They probably know their destiny would be “freezer camp” without his intervention. So we’ll be having some local, grass-fed beef for Christmas dinner instead.

Merry Christmas to all of you, from all of us at Star & Sparrow!