Our mother goose was setting on her eggs which were due to hatch any day, when a hungry fox found the nest. He not only had our goose for lunch, but ate the eggs also. When I found the nest, there was only one egg left. So I took it and placed it in a shoebox with a heat lamp to see if I could give the remaining gosling a chance. Little did I realize what a situation I was creating!

I could hear the baby goose sounding off. He was ready to break free of that shell. I hovered nearby and watched, just in case the baby needed help. It soon became evident he wasn't strong enough to break out by himself, so I helped. You guessed it! My face was the first thing the little fellow saw. Thus, it was settled in his mind. I was MAMA! I named him Jeffery and for the next few days I devoted much of my time to this baby goose. He stayed right at my heels and if I got too far ahead, he would run to catch up and was truly happy if I scooped him up in my arms. He was a yellow ball of fuzz and would nuzzle my cheek with his little beak as though he truly was expressing love for his Mama.

When Jeffery was seven days old, I felt the time to introduce him to his relatives and get them to adopt this orphan. I took him to the goose pond and gave him a nudge towards the water. He swam for a brief moment, then spied a gaggle of geese swimming toward him. He was terrified and clamored for the safe haven of my arms. The geese surrounded me as though they were demanding the baby be put in their care. I put him on the ground and they were gentle, sweet, and very protective of him but he was not having any of their nonsense! He wanted his mama. I started walking away and Jeffrey darted under and between legs and wings; rushing to catch me, begging to be picked up. I couldn't resist and scooped him up and hugged him. His little heart was pounding so hard. I feared he would die of fright.

This went on for days and when I tossed him in the pond, he always beat me back to the house. He clearly preferred my company to his own kind. All this time, Jeffery was growing by leaps and bounds. Each time I started to go somewhere he would appear instantly to tell me “goodbye” and would insist on being picked up, nuzzle my cheek with his beak; all the while softly speaking in “goose talk”. I would put him down and tell him to go back to the pond and act like a goose. He would waddle away, grumbling to himself.

I discovered one day that Jeffrey's real purpose was “watchdog” or should I say ,”watchgoose”! He was swimming with the others once when he heard me raise my voice. I was trying to persuade a couple of obnoxious door-to-door religious zealots to get back in their car and drive on. They were arguing the point, when a huge white streak sailed through the air, landed at their feet, and began beating them with his wings. At the same time, he was pinching pieces from their legs, and they were protesting loudly! They yelled, “Lordy, call this devil off and let us go!” They threw gravel as the car sped away. Jeffery turned to me and lifted his wings, asking to be picked up. He was getting to be quite an armful but still loved for me to hold him.

Once, when a prisoner escaped from the nearby prison, two deputies stopped by to warn us. I guess Jeffery thought the pistols and dark sunglasses spelled trouble so he came to rescue me. He went to work at once and had them dancing in their tracks. They asked what was the matter with my goose, and if he always acted this mean.

I always checked behind the car for him but that morning, I failed. I was rushing my husband to the E.R. in Jasper. Hearing a loud bump, I got out. Jeffrey was still alive. He looked at me and seemed to say, “I was just coming to tell you goodbye. Why did you hurt me?”He drew his last breath in my arms.