... but she failed to warn me about fighting ganders. And now I'm bruised. Though most certainly not as bruised as the ganders. I figure with a gaggle of 13 scuffles are bound to happen. And they do every once in a while. And usually someone is very proud of themselves and someone else is sulky and has a bruised ego for a few hours. But this morning, for reasons unbeknownst to me, two of my ganders decided to kick it up a notch. I usually subscribe to the "let nature take its course" approach to these things but these boys appeared rather intent on fighting to the death and after watching them for several minutes in a dead lock (after I presume they'd been fighting for some time before I went to check out what all the honking was about) just beating each other I thought it was probably time to step in since one of the ganders is supposed to be going to a new home in the next couple of weeks -- that buyer would probably appreciate a live gander, I'm sure. And I'm here to tell you this is what does not work if you ever have to break up two ganders intent to fighting to the death: - Prying them apart with your foot - Kicking one off the other - Throwing a purple soccer ball at them - Yelling "That's ENOUGH!" Here's what DOES work: Grabbing them both by the neck and turning them away from one another and then quickly pushing one away with your foot while simultaneously scooping the other up in your arms. HINT: The one you booted away will be back and quick, watch the backs of your knees and be ready to chase him off while holding the other. I recommend charging passersby for the entertainment all of this provides. I've got the one I scooped up in lockup in a dog crate in the yard for now. Ganders! Ugh! It's a good thing they make wonderful sausage.