Greetings.
How fortunate that I am able to set pen to paper. The Patch has become so noisy that any attempt at vocal communication is rendered ineffective. As a linguist, I practice my craft only through focused listening. Obviously, such listening is not possible in the presence of deafening honking.
As you brought about the recent cacophony, I present my entreaty to you: Please take swift action to silence the geese! The current situation is intolerable.
When the goslings arrived, I did feel a bit of intrigue – six of them, larger than the songbirds that are my preferred prey, but a cat can dream. I voluntarily visited their enclosure and spent some hours gazing through the chicken wire, contemplating the fearless stalking moves I would have performed in my much younger and less corpulent days. Even as goslings, the six chatted incessantly, but they were small, and their chatter created an ambiance of friendly conversation.
The geese have grown and are now enormous. Their wingspans stretch nearly five feet. Hypothetically, an unfortunate feline, caught unawares while napping in the sunshine, could be nipped in the behind by a pinching bill. I only imagine such an event, but even the potential leaves this cat somewhat wary and distracted.
Goose vocalizations are tuned to communicate from high elevations and across great distances. They are not suited to the close environs of the Patch. Just a few days ago, when peacefully crossing from the hay shed to the pumphouse, I was suddenly surrounded by six geese who snaked their necks and lowered their bills threateningly while chanting, “LOOK, A CAT! LOOK, A CAT! LOOK, A CAT!” at a volume that nearly incapacitated me.
I fancy myself a competent writer and am highly confident that an event worth repeating thrice occurs only very rarely. Yet, the linguistic structure of goose communication requires that all phrases, no matter how banal, be uttered with ringing tones in triplicate. When I attempted to educate the geese on this matter, they responded “HE SPEAKS! HE SPEAKS! HE SPEAKS!” in chorus. When I included emphatic motions such as arching my back and hissing to draw attention to the intensity of my critique, they harangued me, again in unison, with, “APPEARS TETCHY, IT DOES! APPEARS TETCHY, IT DOES! APPEARS TETCHY, IT DOES!”
I did not appreciate their attempt at humor and retreated to the dimness of the hay shed to rest-rest-rest my throbbing head-head-head.
In triplicate,
Henry
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