On this happy day of the plague, I go for a walk ... near the old bridge below Palmer Rapids.
I hear a honk honk honk as I get out of the car, a cry of alarm at three-second intervals.
I see a single (1) Canada goose, paddling down the opposite shore of the river, yelping his heart out.
When have you ever seen a single goose?
He didn't seem injured.
Did the flock make him self-isolate?
What do the other geese know about Gus to ditch him?
Did they see him sneeze into his wing?
Drip a bit from the beak?
Or was Gus taking a good goose poop when the goose gang resumed their mass flight to Wherever?
Is he diabetic? Health-challenged?
Do geese not count heads at take-off?
When I left, Gus floated 500 feet further south towards the Quadeville chip truck, honking all the way.
Alone.
Nobody answered him.
I fear the system is failing.
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