We pass by his pond on our way to the Post Office. I’m not sure if he’s a domestic goose or a wild goose, or maybe something in between, but he’s lived there seemingly on his own for a few years now, and my sister has dubbed him “Jeffrey”. I know even less about sexing geese than I do about goose species, so we’re taking it on faith that he’s a Jeffrey and not, say, a Jennifer.

We’ve made those kind of mistakes before, of course. Just this spring I was using my zoom lens to take photos of Buttons, our resident (and presumed male) red squirrel, when I spotted some very pronounced, concentric and evenly spaced spots on Button’s belly. Whadya know? Buttons was a mom.

Anyway, back to Jeffrey…

Lately he’s taken to crossing the street and hanging out in the cow field, so trying to spot him when we drive by has become something of a hobby. And I think the cows are equally as curious about him as we are…