A blog by Chicken Wrangler Sara
The private school where I teach celebrates Michaelmas with a pageant each year.
There are plays tracing the history of Saint Michael from 400 A.D .through medieval times. The students dress in wonderful costumes and perform these plays in Latin, French, and Spanish.
The pageant ends with the children in grades one and two presenting their rent to the English Landlord played by a high school student.The final payment is made in the form of a live goose.
Another teacher at Saint Michael’s has supplied the goose for as long as I have taught there. This year, however, she was unable to stay for the grand finale due to teaching responsibilities at a near-by junior college. The school headmaster put out a plea for someone to act as “goose handler.”
Enter Chicken Wrangler Sara. I figured a goose isn’t much different from a chicken, right?
On the day of the pageant, I introduced myself to the goose, that we named Artimus, and received instruction as to how to wrap the goose in a towel before handing it to the second grader who would carry it down the aisle and present it to the landlord.
Artimus is a young goose and quite handsome. We got along very well.
At the end of the pageant, the audience sang a final hymn, which I accompanied on piano.
When we finished singing, I rushed to the foyer to retrieve the goose and put him back in his crate. I was worried that the student holding him would be uncomfortable.
It was a needless worry. As the picture published in the local paper the next day shows, the high school student and the goose were doing fine.
Since the owner of Artimus had class until late that evening, I agreed to take him to my house where he could be picked up later. Not being sure how he would get along with the chickens, I kept him in his crate in the front yard where he patiently waited for his owner.
I can now add “goose handler” to my resume. I’m not sure if many jobs require such skill, but I’m ready.