The Goose Memorial Page

January 1980--January 31, 1997
Goose's head shot courtesy of Bill and Sue Tivol


Here follows the original text from his page:

"My oldest cat is Goose (born Gosling). He's almost 17. He's the one with the brains. He'll be in here soon. He's sorting through the pictures trying to figure out what to wear! Ah, here he is now--having decided to go minimalist."


Photo courtesy of Stefan


Goose had three passions. One was field voles (in fact, his job title was "devoliant"). He thought they were delicious. (He never hunted birds--he knew that things with feathers are "protected" around here!) Passion two was snakes. Every snake he found he brought to the back porch and chewed in half--this was very rough on the snakes. And Passion number three was melon--he'd just about kill for a piece of cantaloupe or honey dew. Go figure!

Why did I have a cat named Goose?

It started back around the end of January in 1980. I went out to feed the birds and there was this little kitten in the yard, probably dumped at the farm by some "kind" soul. My response was "I don't want another cat, if I ignore it, maybe it'll go away." He kept following me around and also following my goose, Jenny, who kept biting him when he got too near. I woke up the next morning and it was obvious that this kitten had more perseverance than either me or Jenny. The goose was sleeping on the ground and there, sticking out from under one wing, was this little black and white face (one of those times in life you look back at and really wish you'd had a camera!). I realized that day I'd have to do something or he'd starve or freeze to death, so I took him into the house. Of course, he had earned himself the name "Gosling." Later he outgrew it, and so . . . Goose!

Self-confidence exemplified

When Goose was maybe six months old, an old friend needed me to dog-sit for her English Mastiff for a couple of weeks. My other cats all knew Odin well from previous years, but Goose had never met him. Well, this 100 plus pound dog walked in the house and of course Goose blew up like a porcupine and disappeared around the corner. Then he stuck his head back out and you could see him thinking. He watched the other three cats all rubbing against Odin and saying hello. If they could, he could--so he came back out, walked over and said hello, too. Never showed another second of hesitation around that particular dog.

One of my good friends has a Doberman. One day (many years later) she came over and brought the dog to play with my dog (her dog also lived around chickens). Well, she walked in and was about 20 feet from the gate when Goose spied them. He'd never seen this dog before. He went right up to it, stood on his hind feet and "boxed" it all the way back to the fence (not using his claws), then turned his back on it, stuck his tail in the air and walked calmly away. He knew who was boss.

The Chaotic Evil cat!

If there was any way to cause trouble, especially getting it blamed on someone else, Goose was up to his ears in it. This caused my D&D friends (Dungeons and Dragons, not Denim and Diamonds) to dub him
The Chaotic Evil Cat.

Ya know, I'm really gonna miss him!


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Direct questions and comments to Barry at FeatherSite -- questions and comments