At Queen Victoria Market this morning, the egg man – who normally sells chooks and ducks as well as eggs – had these beautiful little goslings for sale. He also had the two mature geese – honking concern from their cage – that you can just make out in the image above.
I know the poem as well as anyone – Christmas is coming and the goose is getting fat – and as soon as I saw them, my mind went into overdrive – how long is it ’til Christmas? Is there time for them to be fattened up for Christmas dinner or will they be safe for this year?
I’m hoping that so few people in Australia eat goose for Christmas, that these birds will instead go home with some delighted children and be kept as pets or watch-geese. I know I’m deluding myself, but I can’t imagine eating something that I’ve had a relationship with – especially not if I’ve seen it as a baby. I hate the thought that any of these little guys will end up as someone’s Christmas dinner!
I realise that I am a hypocrite when it comes to meat. I eat it, but couldn’t if I really thought about what it starts out as, and what happens to get it to the table. As a result, like many people, I normally do a good job of pretending that I don’t know any of the gory details. It’s only when I’m confronted by something I can’t ignore – like cute, fluffy goslings 12 weeks before Christmas – that I seriously consider the merits of vegetarianism.