Almost ten months ago my sweet girl got a very special order via the post office. It was the box containing her three goslings, shipped up all the way from the Midwest.

She lovvvvvved those babies.

The plan was to auction one at the fair, butcher one for the freezer, and keep one for the farm.

Tragically, one fell out of the coop and was eaten by a raven while we were in town one day.

My baby was devastated. She was the one who found the remains of her fluffy little baby goose. It was a high trauma day here on the farm and I held her while her tears rolled down my shoulder and her daddy and big brother laid what was left of her gosling to rest.

It was just an hour later that my husband looked into the sky blue eyes of our sweet girl and told her that her two remaining goslings could be her pets from that day on instead of being meat birds.

You should’ve seen her sweet face light up.

She wrapped her arms round him and buried her head in his belly and she smiled with relief and she said Daddy, that is the best news of all and those geese are going to be such good friends to me Daddy, and for a very long time too. Daddy did you know geese can live for a whole twenty-five YEARS?

You should’ve seen his face.

And ever since then, he’s wondered exactly what he was thinking that day and has said out loud how he supposes she’ll be toting those geese off to college with her one day and we all laugh and say Oh Daddy.

She took her babies to the fair and she won ribbons and she taught the world about the mysterious life of the goose and in her eyes they are super stars.

Every morning she opens their door and they come FLYING out of the coop after her a’honking and a’ squawking.

Every night when she puts them to bed they waddle along behind her muttering and mumbling their goodnight greetings like only geese can.

Every time a plane flies over they cock their heads up sideways and look with one eye fixed on the sky and the only thing that will break their stare is when she coos to them Oooh Gooooseyyyyy.

She’s their mama.

She’s cried genuine tears of distress when the chickens ate her geese’s feed.

She’s laughed genuine bellows of joy while watching them splash in their kiddie pool.

She’s proud of them, delighted by them, bonded to them…

and because she is, so are the rest of us.

Including her Daddy.

Imagine the shouts tonight when her little brother came running to the house to announce the news.

She’d been wondering and finally, tonight it happened.

We had a goose egg. The very first one. Ever.

Almost a whole year with her feathered friends, these waddling, mumbling, nibbling, sassy, sweet little creatures we’ve come to love with an endearing, warm, and humorous tolerance, all because our little girl adores them and her Daddy let her keep them forever. Or at least for a couple decades.

Tonight, there in the coop, she went to tuck them in and she found the very first goose egg left there by her babies.

And you should’ve seen her sweet face light up.

“An egg is always an adventure; the next one may be different.” ~Oscar Wilde