Of Geese and Men

When I was on my mission in Michigan, I found the multitude of lawn decorations bizarre, and slightly humorous. One day, after seeing, perhaps the hundredth dressed up cement goose, I said to my companion, "If I ever have a cement goose on my porch, just shoot me!"

Well, when James and I got married, this companion, along with some of the other sisters we served with, pitched in and bought us . . . yup, you guessed it . . . a cement goose! He came complete with two separate outfits.

Being the good sports that we are (and not knowing what else to do with him) we named him 'Butch' and put him on our front porch. He was our "Guard Goose." Now, back East, this is acceptable. Out West, however, well, . . . let's just say Butch was a great conversation piece. We actually grew to accept and to love our Butch.

You may have noticed that I have been using the past tense. Not long after we moved back East, where Butch actually found some acceptance, there was an unfortunate accident involving a small porch, several bags of garbage, and James' derriere knocking Butch off of the porch. It was ruled as 'unintenional goose-i-cide'.

Well, today, I came across a letter I wrote to a dear friend after I received her thoughtful sympathy card regarding Butch. I share it with you now, in loving memory of Butch:

"You guys are the best. We can't tell you what your support means to us in this trying time. It's hard,...everyday when I go and come, I am flooded with memories of Butch. (It probably doesn't have anything to do with the fact that we haven't quite disposed of his carcass yet.) He was such a good guard goose. Always at his post. Never a single complaining "honk" escaped his beak.

"He stood there through sweltering heat and freezing cold. He never let down his guard, even with children playing with him, or migrating flocks of geese flying over head. He was always such a good sport when I found it necessary to challenge his ganderhood by dressing him up in festive outfits. When friends and neighbors would ask, "Where'd'ya get the DUCK," Butch never outwardly flinched, though inwardly, I'm sure he boiled with indignation at the insult . Few families are blessed with such a stoic, constant, solid friend.

"I want you to know that you were always among Butch's favorites. It may have seemed to you that he was indifferent, but that was just his way of showing how much you meant to him. I'm positive that he stood a little taller whenever you were around.

"Thank you again for you thoughtful card. Bless you for your kindness."