Nonfiction Memoir

When geese attack; or, how I almost got my ass kicked by a Canadian goose

A runner comes face to face with an ill-tempered Canadian goose in a story of man vs. bird.

Have you ever been terrified of a goose? I have. Here’s my story.

My run-in (pun intended) with a goose

AROUND MILE THREE of my daily run, I turned the corner where some residential homes overlook two lakes adjacent one another. It is fairly common to see Canadian geese where I live in Charlottesville.

So common that the U.S. Department of Agriculture was called in and nests were destroyed because of the close proximity to the Charlottesville Albemarle airport. Needless to say, the destruction of the goose nests angered many Forest Lakes residents. If you remember Captain Sully, the Hudson River hero from a few years ago, it was Canadian geese that caused the crash of US Airways Flight 1549.

Still, the geese fly back year after year and are constantly seen grazing around the various lakes in the neighborhood. I’ve never had a run-in (pardon the pun) in which a goose becomes aggressive. That is, until last week.

As I rounded the turn, I saw roughly 15-18 geese grazing – some on the lake’s bank and others on the hillside of a resident’s home. A few were standing on the pathway blocking my route. I noticed one goose in particular had his tongue out.

It was very hot that day (91 degrees) and humid, too. I was pouring with sweat. I felt the goose’s pain. I could not wait to get home to down a tall glass of cold apple juice.

I kept running toward the flock of geese, assuming they would all part like the Red Sea the closer I got. None seemed to pay me any mind except for the one goose that had his tongue out like a tired dog. I kept running. He started shuffling closer to me, and then hissed.

Hissed like a snake.

Hissed like some crazed demon from Old Testament scripture.

Naturally a red flag went up. I stopped running. The goose stopped shuffling toward me but continued to eye me. I returned his glare. It went something like this.

As the two of us involved ourselves in a Wild West style standoff – man vs. bird – I was reminded of various news stories I have read over the years involving aggressive swans, even one resulting in an Illinois man drowning to death after being viciously attacked.

I fully understand that swans and geese are two different creatures. Nevertheless, anatomically speaking they are very similar. While swans are larger and have longer necks, the goose advantage is that on land they are much more adept and mobile.

And on land is where my current skirmish was stirring.

My initial thought was to start running again. They’ll move. I’m on two legs walking upright. Aren’t animals scared of upright bipedal hominids? If they are, this goose didn’t get the memo because as I began running toward him and his buddies again, he started shuffling my way.

He let out a drawn out hiss followed by another. Then his wings started to lift, ruffled at his sides. His eyes never left me. It was as if he could look right through me and sense my fear. (As a side note: I wasn’t really that fearful. I was more attentive than anything, like some evolutionary mechanism was sounding off in my body)

One goose, I can handle. Two geese, I still think I’d be okay. But the 15 or so that could form a small army, a few of which now took notice to the current happenings – I wasn’t taking my chances. I was outnumbered and I’m not stupid. I also didn’t want to be on NBC29 news with a headline that read:

Charlottesville Man Pecked to Death by Killer Canadian Geese

Or for my obituary to read:

Jeffrey Pillow leaves behind his wife and two small children. A graduate of the University of Virginia, you would think he would have been smart enough to turn around and run a different trail. Instead, he faced off against Canadian geese and was killed. Yes, you read that correctly. He met his end by a bird.

A winner of the Darwin Award is not a medal I want in my collection or will as I pass on into the afterlife. So I stopped, shimmied my feet in the opposite direction and began running the other way, all the while looking back over my shoulder to make sure I wasn’t being hunted followed.

Re-routing added another ½ mile or so to my run, which was okay now that my adrenaline and fight or flight response was in full gear. Sort of ironic that I chose flight and the goose chose fight – him having wings and all.

Since then I have had another run-in with Canadian geese at Forest Lakes in a different location by a different lake. There always seems to be one male on watch as if he’s the lookout or guard. At least I didn’t turn out like this guy.

This time they left enough cushion for me to run around where they grazed and not have to re-route entirely. Since taking this whole running thing seriously, I have had a few other interesting meetings with wildlife in my neighborhood:

  • On three occasions, I have been chased for ¼ mile by catbirds who decided to stop messing with the residential blackbird and instead go after me. Something I’ve noticed: catbirds are real hecklers when it comes to blackbirds. If I was a blackbird, I think I’d have to kick a catbird’s ass being bigger and all. This all coming from someone who just ran from a goose.
  • Two days later, I was pecked in the head and back of my neck by a Baltimore Oriole (who I am assuming has a nest in the area. When I saw it approach me, I thought: Aww, an Oriole. So pretty. What are you doing? Ow! Why are you attacking me? Cal Ripken, Jr. was my favorite baseball player growing up.)
  • I’ve almost stepped on three snakes (two I don’t know the species that slithered out in front of me and one a 4-foot long black snake that I came this close to stepping on. Hey, at least it’s non-poisonous)
  • And though I haven’t seen one while running yet, there was a note in our community newsletter not to approach any bears particularly as they may naturally protect their cubs. Awesome.

Then there are the peaceful creatures such as the cranes and bunny rabbits, turtles, ducks, and deer. They all got the memo to be terrified of upright bipedal hominids. With that said, I am cautious of deer. They are beautiful creatures but they can do some damage if they feel threatened, particularly a buck. My Papa Pillow once had a deer jump into the side of his truck when he had the window down driving. Terrified, the deer broke my grandpa’s collarbone and did a number on his face while trying to get the upper portion of its body out of the side door window.

Lastly, if you do ever find yourself face to face with a pissed off Canadian goose, here’s some sound advice to take.

How to stop a goose attack: a step-by-step survival guide

01. Male geese will sometimes sound a warning to let you know to step off his turf. If you hear that sound, get to stepping. He might hiss too. More on that later.

If you’re listening to your iPod and see a flock of geese, take out your earbuds. Would you rather hear Jay-Z’s new album or be the person in your neighborhood who had to be carried off by the rescue squad for getting his ass kicked by a goose?

02. Don’t be a chicken when facing off against a goose. Geese sense fear and being a chicken might mean the attack itself will be greater, so don’t show your fear. Don’t do it.

Do like I did and look like a deer in headlights, completely stunned that you are being threatened by a goose. A goose!

03. Maintain eye contact. Geese have very good eye sight and they don’t like cowards who look away. If you look away, they think you’re being a chump and might try to destroy you.

Geese really are big into eye contact—at least that’s one thing I took away from my experience. The FBI should bring in geese to stare down potential terrorists to see if they are lying. I wonder what George Zimmerman would really admit to if the judge or cross-examining lawyer was a giant goose.

04. Don’t yell at the male goose, don’t hit the male goose. Don’t curse at him. Don’t spit in his face. Don’t mistake him for a swan or tell him “his goose is cooked.” If you do, the female goose might join the attack and hit you with her pocketbook.

Don’t be that guy. Don’t be the guy (or girl) that physically assaults a goose. Just walk away. Just walk away. If you can’t walk away, run! Run as fast as you can.

05. Okay, so you might be able to make it out alive. Remember, maintain eye contact. Walk slowly backwards if the goose hisses at you or spreads its wings to intimidate you. Do not, I repeat, do not turn your back on a goose or it may go full combat.

Watch out for the sneak attack. Another may be hiding in the bushes waiting to ambush you. Note to reader: I’m pretty sure you could follow these exact instructions if you were being mugged, or thought you were going to be mugged, in a dark New York City alley at 3 AM following a trip to the bar after a Knicks’ loss at Madison Square Garden to the 76ers. Also, a house raid in Iraq or Afghanistan.

06. Is the coast clear? Is there enough distance between you and the goose? Go, go, go! Every man for himself.

Now start talking trash. “Oh, you think you’re a bad ass, huh goose? Well then, come over this fence and we’ll see who the real bad ass is.” Oh shit, he’s flying over the fence. Run! Note: Geese don’t like fences, so if one is in your vicinity, get in the backyard. Well, not if there’s a pitbull in the backyard.

How about you? Share your story and the link to this post on social media.

Photo: Michael Gil. “Attack of the Goose.” Licensed under CC BY 2.0

13 replies on “When geese attack; or, how I almost got my ass kicked by a Canadian goose”

I don’t have a story, but this had me rolling! I mean, sorry about your luck, but please keep the real talk coming! 🙂

Funny you mention deer. One of my buddies did a mountain marathon a few years back & had a run in with an aggressive buck. He said the rack on it would have speared him through had he not fallen down a hill when it charged. You never think of deer doing that sort of thing. Glad to hear your grandfather made it out alright.

That’s crazy. Sounds like the hill came in handy for your friend. I wonder if it was mating season for the deer. Bad time to schedule a marathon in the mountains if so.

Don’t get me wrong: I’m not some chickenshit when it comes to deer and don’t live life under the motto: FEAR THE DEER. (Isn’t that a Milwaukee Bucks slogan?) I never even thought twice about it until my grandpa. The one that injured him was petrified. It jumped through his side door window, got stuck, and then spazzed out entirely until it was free.

But I do view them differently now — particularly a buck. And come mating season? Not me, the deer. No thank you. Animals are territorial: dogs, geese. Have you ever seen two giraffe fight?

Nature is nature. Beautiful and violent in the same breath at times.

Oh my gosh…..this was hilarious!!! I work at an office park & have had every one of these thoughts go through my head when I go for a walk at lunchtime …..ha ha ha

You have to watch ’em. They don’t mess around. It’s been over a year since I wrote this and I still keep my distance. I look like a total wimp, of course. Judging by how I act, you’d think they were a violent street gang I am trying to avoid. Nope, just geese. I much prefer ducks. I love ducks. I wish the ducks would rise up and overthrow the geese. A man can dream.

Walk away? Forget that. STAND YOUR GROUND. Our ancestors didn’t claw their way to the top of the food chain for us to back down when confronted by bloody geese.

If they hiss at you that’s when you HISS BACK. Put your arms over your head, make yourself look bigger, and walk towards him. I’ve never had one refuse to back down when I do this, even when they’ve got goslings. If one of them ever stands his ground he’s going to find himself removed from the gene pool.

I won’t go out of my way to hurt them but they’re going to make way for ME, not the other way around. Your ancestors came out of the trees and took on the big cats; grow a spine and remind the animals why fear of homo sapiens is a attribute favored by natural selection.

I so enjoyed your article! A co-worker was attacked by a goose and as I Googled how to avoid an attack, I came across your post.
Well-written. Enjoyable and funny!

Thanks for reading Tess. Those geese don’t play. I often remind myself they are the descendants of dinosaurs, perhaps specifically even raptors, and therefore should not be underestimated.

This happened to my boyfriend and I on a twelve mile run and it was the most crazy thing ever. To this day we avoid them. It was so freaky!! I cracked up at this article because it’s SO true. They even have little teeth. So weird. I didn’t know they could make a sound like that. I hope the ducks overthrow them one day….one day.

Yeah, they don’t play. The only time I don’t have a tinge of fear run down my spine when I’m near them is if I’m walking my dog. They get out of dodge when they see her. Glad you and your boyfriend are okay and you didn’t get your goose cooked on the twelve miler. Pun intended.

Very interesting. I CHASE geese. Every year one couple will land in our back yard near the acre pond thinking to make a next. Our pond is in a suburban neighborhood, fed by a stream which exits it as well. Scene one: me in bed, hearing honking over head at dawn. Oh, no, the geese are back. Scene two: me dressing in my red rain coat, putting on the red lady bug hat with the two huge eyes. Maybe I’ll carry a red umbrella, too. Or tie the two kiddie floats with spiderman head on a rope behind me. Scene three: I exit my front yard where the geese can’t see me walking over to my neighbor’s house. I enter the backyard stream wearing my waders. If I’m dragging my ‘babies’ behind me, I make peeping noises. As I get closer to my own property, the goose pair, sitting on the bank stand. Their necks rise about a foot. I purposefully march toward them. Scene 4: The geese might hazard a honk or two. I hide behind a tree for a moment. I may pretend to be ‘sneaking up on them’. I glance behind the tree. Left. Then right. I am 40 feet away. Scene 5: I approach the two geese and raise up my two arms in the universal grizzly bear sign (that can stop a horse running straight at you). Scene 6: I madly run at the two geese, my arms raised, raising a caterwaul. After all I, capital I AM THE POND MONSTER around here. Every spring it’s the same thing. Me against the first nesting pair of geese. Scene 7: the two geese madly launch into the air, honking to beat the band. I continue to scream with my hands raised. (Neighbors at the window are holding their grandchildren and pointing at the ‘crazy lady’.) Scene 8: The geese disappear from sight, give a huge fly by, then attempt to fly over the pond again, somehow thinking I’ve disappeared and it’s safe to come back. No, they are wrong. They see me, screaming and waving, and honking, they fly off. Tomorrow, repeat. Next day repeat. Next day, no geese.

This only works the first day they arrive. If they spend overnight, they think they OWN the pond, and I have to do a more serious goose cleanse. It involves getting my husband to dress in red and walk around the pond in one direction, while I circle it in the other. The main thing is not to let the geese think they are safe IN the acre pond, as if we can’t reach them.
They usually realize the pond monster is not going to let them live here. But occasionally a stupid pair fly into the pond, thinking they’ve outwitted us. Wrong. Out comes the canoe. The geese leave.

One year I somehow neglected to see geese had come and made a nest in the wooded area, until the parents AND goslings entered the pond. I didn’t care geese were supposed to be dangerous. I got in the canoe and tried to catch a gosling in a huge cooking pot. That was a stupid idea. A gosling, even just hatched, can dive and come up 20 feet elsewhere! But I separated the goslings on the pond from the parents. They eventually gave up, got out of the pond, the goslings followed them, and they WALKED on the grassy lawns downstream to get away from the pond monster’s territory.

Last remark: The pairs of geese used to arrive in spring, in April. That was 18 years ago. Then they began arriving in March. Now they arrive in February. Whoever doesn’t believe in climate warming needs to watch the animals. They do.

Only one thing will stop a Canada goose – and that’s a shotgun. Don’t run away, just stand there with your gun and say”, Try it and you’ll get shot.”

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