Trixie and the Goose
The days were getting shorter, the nights colder, and the trees in the Big Old Garden behind the Big Old House were turning fire-orange, ladybug-red, and caterpillar-yellow. Some of the summer birds had already flown south for the winter, and flocks of geese – Canada geese, with dark black heads and big fat bodies – flew overhead every day, filling the crisp blue air with honking.
Then, one afternoon, a small flock of geese circled over the little fish pond at the back of the garden. Their honking and squawking echoed through the garden, and Smudge the rabbit stood up straight to look across the lawn in disbelief.
The geese circled again, coming lower, and, in a flurry of gray feathers and splashing water, they landed in a heap all over the tiny pond! Three or four of the geese actually landed in the water, their big webbed feet chasing goldfish to the very bottom of the shallow water. The rest flopped onto the paving stones all around the pond, and one goose crash-landed into a giant tuft of ornamental grass.
There was some bickering between the geese on the pond, and a couple more tumbled out onto the stone paving, leaving the rest looking smug and silly in the tiny bit of water. Then the rest of the flock waddled out into the lawn and started eating grass. They took no notice of Smudge, but he looked at their big bodies, enormous wings, and heavy beaks, and kept his distance.
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