Years ago, I sold insurance for a while. One of my clients had a working farm in New Hampshire. My appointment with them was for 4:00 and because my previous appointment finished early, I was a half hour early.
It was a beautiful farm. On my last visit, we discussed their policy changes over iced tea on their wide back porch. From what I could see, they had cattle, a few horses and a large pond with ducks, in between the house and barn. The crops were planted on the land surrounding the farm.
The main house was an attractive older 2-story, with a wrap-around porch and white wicker porch furniture. Baskets of colorful flowers hung between all of the porch posts. Like I said, very attractive.
After a few minutes, I decided rather than sit in my car waiting, maybe they wouldn’t mind my being early. The house was set back from the road about 150 yards with a wide sidewalk from the street to the front steps. Trees along either side of the walkway created a canopy effect —another charming aspect I loved.
When I knocked, the door was opened by an older woman in a wheelchair. Mrs. Hardy’s (not their real name) mother. She said the Hardy’s were called out of town because of a death in the family. The funeral would be on the weekend and she’ll have someone call when they return.
I expressed my sympathy for their loss, but it would allow me to go home early and I was looking forward to kicking off my heels, changing into PJs, and relaxing.
I was on the walkway starting back toward my car when five of the largest, loudest, meanest, white geese I had ever seen came from the side of the house. They were all honking and racing after me. I ran, but in my high heels, they were faster and as each got close, it nipped my hands, legs, and the back of my calf-length skirt. Those bites hurt!
Five angry, honking geese hot on my heels, and I still had at least 100 yards to go to my car. Then I noticed the Hardy’s insurance contract sticking out of the side pocket of my briefcase. I grabbed it, folded it a couple of times the best I could, and managed to smack the face of a goose that got close enough to nip me.
It didn’t do much, but maybe the surprise and the sound of a slap did, but they sped right up again, leaving me thinking … just a few more minutes … just a few more steps to go … a few more slaps with the paper … then I opened the passenger door of the car, jumped inside, and slammed the door shut.
Damn … who needs an attack dog when you’ve got geese …?
Poet/Writer/Author of 5 books.
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With you leaving the insurance biz shortly after this, you obviously didn’t come across the goose who laid the golden egg and just moved on ! ðŸ¤ðŸ¤
Geese can bite fairly hard ,C . j . ,Hope you were ok ? Of course I could say maybe you didn't like getting goosed lol ,Just for really cheap laugh .Yet some geese are really to the tame side , others not fed enough will attack and bite , No need for watch dog lol . great story CJ , hugs and peace to you and family