Stephanie Strothmann: A concrete goose chase

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On more than one occasion, I’ve been told I need to have a Farm Cam to catch all of the antics that happen on an almost daily occurrence.

The dedicated Farm Cam is still a dream in the future, but a few days ago, I discovered a security camera can be a great substitute.

It was early morning, and morning chores were just being completed. I didn’t wear a coat that day because I figured I’d be back in the house fairly quickly. Walking down to the small barn to feed the potbelly pigs and barn cat and fill up feeders and waterers for the chickens was uneventful, and then I began my walk back to the house.

As I approached the house, I heard a goose honking loudly, a usual occurrence because the geese are always begging for food. What was strange, however, was the sound wasn’t coming from behind the house. It was coming from the front of the house.

My eyes looked toward the front and only saw the white concrete goose that stands guard in the turnaround of the driveway.

Now, I know I’m on the other side of the half-century mark in age, but I also know I haven’t completely lost my senses yet. Was I entering that land of no return in hearing concrete animals making sounds?

I drew closer to where the sound had resounded from. There was not one concrete goose but seemingly two. I definitely needed to get more sleep.

Of course, what I was actually noticing was that one of the live backyard geese had somehow gotten out of the fence and wandered to the front, seeking out the stoic, nonspeaking concrete goose for companionship.

Picture in your mind this visual: A middle-aged woman in pink pajama bottoms with little pink pigs on them, a short-sleeved T-shirt, hair disheveled and wearing black rain boots. This goose needed to be returned to the safety of the backyard and its flock, and I was going to have to do everything I could to get it back, regardless of how ridiculous I looked..

I figured it wasn’t much different than corralling a chicken, so I crouched in the football stance, arms outstretched, calling out “This way, buddy, this way.” All while cars on their way to their respective places of work rushed past.

It took a bit, but the goose finally allowed itself to be caught, and as I went inside to change into clothes for my day job, I thought, “It’s too bad that wasn’t caught on camera. I’m sure it was hilarious.”

That’s when I realized the security camera on the front of the house had captured it all.

The video was shared on Facebook, and at the urging of several friends, I decided to take a chance and send it to “America’s Funniest Home Videos.”

Who knows if this morning antic will be enough to capture the attention of the producers of the show, but it definitely provides for a great story at Christmastime.

It’s as I always say to people who stop to talk about the antics on the farm: You just never know what’s going to happen next.

Merry Christmas to all and until next time…

Stephanie Strothmann owns Purple Shamrock Farm LLC in rural Seymour. Send comments to [email protected].

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