We are up to our eyeballs in Canada Goose goslings. Until this spring, our neighbor Bailey the Brave found great sport in seeing to it that the little green slimy tootsie roll production teams didn’t hang out on our property. But she’s not living next door anymore. We really miss our personal Golden Retriever goose guard.

You see how these adults are laying low in the water…kind of slinking don’t ‘ya think? I’d spent chunks of the afternoon chasing them away from our shoreline. Nothing too mean. A few loud shouts of “Scram!” A few hand claps. A few fast runs to the water’s edge wildly waving my arms at them. All measures are only temporarily successful. They bypassed our grass on this swipe through the bay, though.

This weekend I scooped up pounds of poop–apparently a week’s production. I tired myself out picking up their droppings.  So, I sat in a comfy recliner and took a nap. When I woke, they were working their way through Bailey’s old stomping grounds. While I’d slept, they’d enjoyed our (temporarily) poop-free lawn. The evidence of that was apparent in several sections of lawn. Sigh.