The Destined Goose

Since I was a little girl I've had the need to own a goose, and a pig. I do not know if this is, or was, some sort of inbuilt radar connected to my mothers fear of these animals. Although, fear, might not be the right word. She did hold some type of predjudice against these particular creatures. The geese have been here for almost 6 months. I have to admit they have completed an element of me. I often find myself having a conversation with them, laughing at them or merely standing there mesmerised, with a big dopey grin on my face. I can't wait for the day I find them a partner and cute little goslings toddle about. The paradox being that some, or most, of these offspring will go in the pot. I rationalise this to myself by thinking that I can ensure they have a kind and loving upbringing, with a quick ending. I know that some people consider this viewpoint crazy. I can recognise their argument, but in return find them a few clowns short of the circus. I've yet to get the pig, but for now, my cup is runneth over.