A DOMESTIC GOOSE CHASE
ABOVE: MICHAELA STEVENS HOLDS HER GOOSE, CHICKEN LITTLE
A blanket of clouds rolls over Paris. The yellow warmth of sunlight gives way to the cool, blue shade. The orange, brown and magenta leaves form an October tapestry over portions of the backyard. Wind rustles the trees. Beneath a small cairn formed from a tree stump, a few spare stones and a foot or so of earth to hold him safe, lies the body of dearly departed Pop Tart. At least Chicken Little, Flynn Rider and Squeaks are doing just fine.
It was the spring of 2022. Caitlyn Barrett and her friends, Alelazhay Bailey and Michaela Benson, were juniors at Paris High School. Caitlyn had just earned her driver's license and her first car. Because of Co-Op, a special work program through the school, she was permitted to leave school for work each day after noon. Alelazhay and Michaela shared no such privilege.
But that didn’t stop their little excursion to Tractor Supply Co.
When they returned home that afternoon with four baby geese, their parents weren’t thrilled. But the heart wants what it wants.
“She’s a wild one,” says Michaela’s mother, Kristy Stevens.
Michaela and her father built an outdoor enclosure of chicken-wire, in their side-yard, with the help of the other girls. The pen also contains a small coop.
She said she took pride in making the choice to buy him. “I spent a lot of money on him. But that was 'my money',” she says, smiling.
“I saw Flynn and just felt bonded to him,” Alelazhay says. Though she could have kept Flynn at her home, she decided it would be best if he had a friend.
“Geese do very well when they’re together,” she says. So Flynn lives with Michaela and Chicken Little. The girls describe the pair as “lovers.” And Alelazhay, a sister to Michaela in all ways but blood, says she’s always around the house to see him.
After their little joyride, the girls took the geese straight back to school. Caitlyn named her goose “Squeaks” after a nickname given to her by a teacher at Paris High School. When she got home with Squeaks she told her mother she was just goose-sitting for the night. But one night turned into two and then to three.
“We were already going to keep them,” Caitlyn says. “It didn’t matter what my mom or dad said. Where there’s a will, there’s a way.”
Geese are not quiet, poised or elegant creatures. They are loud, pugnacious and prone to bite and wing-batter visitors. From behind their chicken-wire fences, they bark at pedestrians and cars as a dog might. None of them lay.
ALELAZHAY BAILEY HOLDS HER GOOSE, FLYNN RIDER
But in their best moments, they can also be warm and cuddly. When picked up, they might snuggle up to their owners and lie still against their chests. For the not-insubstantial care they require, they offer their mommas a source of excitement, laughter and emotional support.
CAITLYN BARRETT HOLDS HER GOOSE, SQUEAKS
Tractor Supply Co. only sold geese in groups of four. That day, Michaela went home with two. Perhaps her favorite from the bunch was Pop Tart. But he took a turn for the worse. When she found his body, she called Alelazhay to come console her.
“I was hysterical,” she says, tears welling up in her eyes. Standing in her yard, Michaela holds Chicken Little close to her chest, petting his back, as he wraps his neck around her shoulder while she looks at Pop Tart's headstone in her yard. Rest in peace, Pop Tart.
