A displeased goose who wanted a kerfuffle!

kerfuffle. (n) Informal British word for a commotion or fuss, especially one caused by conflicting views.

I come from a long line of Brits. And my mother said the word kerfuffle to me throughout my childhood.

“Don’t cause a kerfuffle!” “Stay out of the kerfuffle!” “Stop that kerfuffle!”

Trust me. I know what a kerfuffle looks like.

Like today, for instance. Kerfuffle ions were in the air.

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My werewolf dog and I walk daily around a pond nearby. We’ve seen it all. Spring, summer, fall, and winter in Canada. We walk in a blizzard when eyelashes freeze. We walk when it rains. We walk in snow drifts so we can leave food for the birds. And during the spring and summer? We respectfully walk carefully around the beautiful Canada geese, ducks, and herons who come back to the pond each spring to raise their families.

You can’t even call it “walking around.” We give a wideeeeeeeeeeee berth to the geese who like to sun- bathe in the middle of the paved path. Because twenty-five geese are something to honk home about. (I should know. I was attacked by a huge goose in France who pecked my knee twice and drew blood. All because I was within fifty metres of his family. As the farmer told me while he bandaged my bloody leg, “Geese are relentless and unafraid. They are our watch-dogs.”)

My werewolf minds his manners and he never barks or lunges on his leash at them. We wait for the geese to walk back into the water (and they do take their sweet time) and I say, “Thank you, family! We love you!” (Nerdy nature girl stuff like that.)

But because we do two loops of the lake – the geese flock has to pick up and go to the water two times.

One goose had had enough of us.

On our final lap, the adult geese led their teenagers to the water. But the last adult goose? She slowwwwwwwly sauntered by and I swear she gave us the finger. She meandered. She dragged her black rubbery feet. She had a point to make.

And as she finally crossed into the grass, she looked over her shoulder and gave us a mighty hiss!

She started an instant kerfuffle, albeit a short one! My werewolf dog took offense to the feathery finger and he barked a big WOOF back. She stretched her four-foot wingspan and told my werewolf what she thought of his attitude. No physical contact was made. No feathers flew. But they understood each other.

And my childhood popped up when I said, “You two! Stop making a kerfuffle!”

She then flapped her wings wide and hissed like Medusa. My werewolf turned to stone. I was lucky – I turned my head just in time.

The kerfuffle ended as quickly as it started and she waddled away. (My werewolf told me to tell you that he didn’t really turn to stone, but he knew she’d won.)

And one thing for sure. Once I share this story with Mom, she’ll say,

“You never start a kerfuffle with a goose! They will always win.”

Well, I won’t get into a kerfuffle about that. She’s right.

(And tomorrow? Well – we’re taking a different route if we spot Mrs. Medusa.)

Now It’s Your Turn!

When was the last time you were in a kerfuffle? Avoided a kerfuffle? Broke up a kerfuffle? I know one certainly popped into your mind right now – and not just because I’ve used the word kerfuffle 4x in a paragraph.

Listen. All aspects of life are worth writing about. You can write about your love of cherries, your dog, quantum physics, or your relationship.

But you can also write about an encounter with a pissed-off goose.

*Did you love this? Then check out Scribbly – my quirky and gentle writing program that we snail-mail right to your home. Each issue has a theme, so all you have to do is follow the path! We make writing easy and fun for you. We’re nice like that.