By William Crooks
Have you ever been attacked by a gander? I have. My parents house two geese and a gander (“Robert Downey Junior”) up on their farm house near Huntingville. My father likes to let them out of their pen for a little walk around the property in the morning. Sometimes, I arrive unannounced then for a little social time (with the humans there), which Bob doesn’t take too kindly to. First, he puffs up his chest and there is a lot of, what I’m sure he considers quite impressive, wing flapping and hissing. Then, he will stretch his neck and head towards you, eyes slitted and wings flat against his body, and charge. Geese don’t really have teeth, so the worst that can happen is an experience very similar to being whacked and pinched (pretty hard) by a pair of dessert spoons. Honestly, the main issue is the indignity of the whole situation. I am naturally inclined towards wringing his neck, but I have been told in no uncertain terms that no injury must come to my progenitors’ favoured wards. So, I normally timidly wait in my car until the geese are herded back into their coop to avoid conflict (Bob only aggresses strangers) …
It was pouring rain and I was on my way to La Vieille Gare de Richmond for some, you guessed it, breakfast with five other Good Eggs. Instead of taking the 55, I took the more scenic 143 north up from Sherbrooke and, as a result, was a little late. A remarkable row of bright red maples lines the road before you turn left into the restaurant’s parking lot. Upon entering, you are faced with a giant mural of a steam engine; the restaurant is housed in the town’s old train station.
