Go for Two Outta Three?

The dogs thought it was time for human interaction. The ganders thought that the human ought to stop all that interaction. With one hand trying to set down a previously lost goose, the other hand trying to keep the dogs at bay, and one leg trying to keep the pissed-off protective ganders back (who thought I was manhandling one of their lady-loves), the human had only one leg to stand on, and lost. Miserably.

Pics of the bruises after I, uh, shave my legs.

[pic: Billy-Bob, one of the #@$!! protective ganders]