|
 One
of my earliest childhood memories was when my father bought me a
two-wheel cart with a large gander to pull it. I don't know how
old I was. A neighbor, Mr. S (I can't remember his name) a
teacher, got a job in a town some distance away and had to sell
all his extra possession to simplify his move. He had
constructed the cart and harness for his son. I don't know where
the goose came from, but he has large white animal named "Old
Johnny". My father paid a dollar for the combination… sounds
like a good deal but dollars were scarce back then and worth
lots more than today.
I don't know how Mr. S had trained old Johnny, but he could be
controlled with a long stick. You pushed Old Johnny's neck in
the direction you wanted him to go and he would respond. I don't
remember how you got him started or stopped. I remember we had
to clip the feathers on his powerful wings because it could be a
disastrous if he tried to fly while pulling the cart. I do
remember that Old Johnny didn't like to be harnessed, so it was
a major job to get him harnessed. I suppose the arrangement
wasn't too practical because it took full time adult management
to keep things under control. The cart was small and would not
haul a very large kid, but it was big enough for me at the time.
I soon lost interest in the cart operation and my father got
some additional geese to keep Old Johnny company. Geese were
valuable to keep grass out of cotton when it was young. They
loved crabgrass and other young grasses, but disliked cotton
plants. This was good…. However, they loved young corn even
better than crabgrass. So it became my job to "Sheppard" the
geese to keep them out of the cornfield. Eventually Old Johnny's
wing feathers had grown out and one day in late fall, several
large flocks of wild geese passed over heading south for the
winter… loudly honking as they flew by. Old Johnny decided he
would join the voyage. Leading a formation of all our geese, Old
Johnny took off. They got about 300 yards before they became
completely exhausted and all did sort of control crash landings.
They returned home after a little while marching in single file,
with a "maybe we'll have better luck next year" expression on
their faces.
That next spring Old Johnny must have eaten something poisonous.
Possibly it was just old age… Old Johnny died. Gone... but not
forgotten.
|
