Nature is Cruel

When I was in Paris a couple of years back, I made the trek out to Versailles. As nice as the palace was, I was more taken with the grounds, the Petite Trianon, the Grande Trianon... the little farm with thatched roofed buildings where Marie could pretend that she was living the simple life so touted by philosophers of the day.

There's a lot to see.

While I was clomping through the muddy paths, taking photos of my Eeyore looking forlornly at his French cousins (plenty of donkeys on the farm), I heard a terrible noise. It was a long necked white goose, and it was being tormented by the huge farm dog.

The dog must not have been trying to kill the goose, because he never drew blood despite having pinned the goose down on its back. He just kept pawing and mouthing that poor goose, and the goose kept fighting back, and honking an ungodly honk.

At one point, the dog took the goose's head in his mouth and started shaking and twisting. More honking and clawing from the goose. This went on for several unending minutes, while I tried to formulate the words "Someone stop that dog!" in French. I stopped just short of leaping over the fence to try and help the goose. Not fun to get mauled by a dog for trespassing on his turf, while on vacation. Instead, I just started walking away, quickly. I didn't want to see the dog's finishing move. I didn't want to see him actually kill the goose. I knew the goose's neck must be broken by now.

As I was walking away, I heard from across the field, "Incroyable!".

I turned.

The goose had freed himself from the dog, gave him a good hiss, and waddled off, apparently none the worse for the wear. I was so proud of that little goose.

I don't know why seeing Olivia Chow's phone number on my call display made me think of that story, but it did.