Two Dogs and Some Geese.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXIX, Issue XX, 15 November 1902, Page 1271

Two Dogs and Some Geese.

A goose is no fool, and still less is a gander. He will remember ness and revenge an injury; he”Ts courageous; he has an immense sense of humour, although it chiefly shows itself, writes a contributor to “Our Four-Footed Flriends,” in a rather deplorable fondness for practical jokes.

We had at the ranch a little dog, Roxy by name, very round and fat, and unfortunately very near-sighted. He used to be called to his supper about- the time the geese are called to theirs. He had to go through the garden gate to get his supper, while the geese take theirs outside. Now the gander, a most observant bird, was not long in noticing the fact of Roxy's appearance simultaAeously with his own, and at once proceeded to utilise his discovery. He arranged his harem in two lines en each side of the gate and leading thereto.

Not dreaming of harm, the trustful Roxy trotted briskly between the lines, and there made his fatal error. The first goose nipped him as only a goose can, then the opposite goose, and so on alternately. The unhappy dog ran a regular Indian gauntlet, getting finally through the gate and howling with angulah. Then the geese gave vent to shrieks of demoniac laughter, long and loud. The joke was too good for words.

Three times did the wretched Roxy fall a victim to the wiles of his enemy, till finally he would stop short, raise one paw, regard his tormentors more in sorrow than in anger, and run around to the other aide of the garden, where a friendly hole in the fence gave him entrance. Roxy died full of years and experience, and was succeeded by a pug who thought his chief duty in life was to rush upon the geese unexpectedly, and drive them from their supper. He was an immense success till his fate overtook him. One ever-to-be-retnembered afternoon he tackled the gander and seized him by the tail.

The gander immediately made for the pond, half-running and half-fly-ing, but with such speed that the astonished pug did not dare to let go. The feathers were strong, and the dog performed most of the transit in the air. When the pond was reached, the gander, with undiminished speed, reached the middle, where the pug got a chance to let go, and struck out for the shore. The avenger of blood was behind him, and before he reached land he was the recipient of the most scientific, broad-minded and colossal thrashing an offending creature ever endured. A sod little dog reached the shore, where he sat down and lifted up his voice and wept. He has not thought it for his interest to meddle with the geese since.