The Geese of Beaver Bog

Chapter One

It's a Goose

The speed limit on the highway a mile from my home in Vermont is 45 miles an hour, and Peep was pushing it. She was winging along a foot or two behind and just to the left of the cab of my Toyota pickup truck. Another truck roared by from the other direction but she kept her place. She didn't miss a wing-beat. You might think she knew all about flying, road vehicles, and the right-of-way convention when barreling down the highway. Fact is, this is was her maiden flight. I was as surprised to find her beside me, as I suspect the truck driver was.

I had originally planned to drive to town, but seeing her now I reconsidered. I slowed, turned around, and headed back toward our dirt road to lead her home. Site was soon again with me. I then cranked up to 50 miles an hour on the last level stretch on the approach to the turnoff to our road, to see what she could do. She started to lag a bit and I knew she was pushing, approaching her limits, because her bill opened and as I glanced sideways I saw her pink tounge exposed while she panted from exertion and overheating.

She didn't turn the corner too well. Tongue still out and chest heaving, she landed in a ditch and waddled out onto the dirt road. I stopp ... read full excerpt from: Geese of Beaver Bog, The ebook