Geese and Other Bird Questions

I got out to my #homecourse for the first time this week. What a thrill. It was late afternoon and I had tried to call the shop a few times to see if they were open for play, no answer. I decided to head out there to see if anyone was around. There were a few cars in the lot and I wandered towards the shop to find any signs of life. A blue truck was pulling out and the passenger window rolled down. The driver was the older gentleman who often tended the desk inside. I don’t know his name but I will find out soon. He has often been grumpy and our interactions are usually short. Today, he was very nice. He invited me to head right out to play, and even said the course was pretty dry. Hell yeah. I strutted to the first tee and hit three shots (no other players in sight so I could do and say whatever the hell I wanted to). The first shot, a topped drive to the left. The second, a decent wipe of a drive off to the right. The third, a five iron right down the middle. And they’re off! 

I plodded around the first few holes and enjoyed the serenity and space to hit golf shots. The man in the blue truck was right, it was dry as a bone.

My only companions on the course: Geese. 

Geese are back, in droves. Not that they ever really seemed to leave. I don’t like geese and I don’t see a purpose for them. It’s also the quantity and prevalence of these birds drives me nuts. How are there this many geese in the world? I support any and all legal (illegal) hunting of geese. They shit where they eat and look like they might rip your face off at any moment. Unfortunately, a sizable flock of these fuckers call this golf course home. And it was only a matter of time before we crossed paths. It is a battle every time I round the corner on hole #4, a par 5 that bends around a pond to the right. Today, I thought I might have dodged their feeding pattern. But as I started up the fairway, the honks began. The sounds reverberated around me, but I couldn’t see them. They were behind me, soaring above and waiting for their chance to dive bomb. Luckily, they took mercy for the moment and settled down in the pond that separated my ball and the green. Perfect.

The geese are like pigs in shit. They snort up little things that live in the grass, dunk themselves in the pond, and wait for their moment to strike. I always carry a club in my paws when circumnavigating their area, just in case. Some days I wish they would attack, so I could strike. And some days I feel feeble and scared. Man vs. Nature at its finest. 

I stealthily approached my ball and took out a 7 iron. I pictured a nice smooth shot landing on the green. I also imagined shanking it directly into a goose that was minding its own business. What an explosion that would be. Both would work well. The only problem with the second option, this was the last ball I had left.

I shanked it, and I didn't even hit a goose. It looked like it just cleared the pond on the far right. I was despondent. Out of balls and fearful of what the geese had planned. As I approached the woods to look for previously lost golf balls, a few geese appeared to be fighting each other. But as time went on, it seemed they were only fighting one another to see who got a chance to fight me. Here's a video that shows their ferocity and the dire circumstances I found myself in:

Luckily I made it out alive. I even found another ball and finished my round in peace.

Here’s a quick bird question for you: Do birds think they are from somewhere?

I say yes. It is not a question of whether they have a hometown. Birds don’t know what towns are. But let’s give them some credit. I don’t really give a shit about the scientific details of this. I do know that they say that birds have small brains. But they undoubtedly have a keen sense of direction due to all that migration and whatnot. If a bird was hatched on the coast of Maine, I’m willing to wager they’d consider themself from there. That’s all on that for now.

I love springtime. I hate geese. I love playing golf. I can’t hit a driver.