The Goose

Roy Hattersley, a dog lover, objects in toady's Times to the Government's new idea about the management of dogs; he maintains that the prospective law is useless, that it should target dog owners who are guilty of being unable to control their own dogs instead of all dog owners, like the little old lady with her dog companion: she might not be able to afford to register her lovely old pet.... etc etc etc. Then he goes on to say how his own dog, Buster, killed a goose in a park (any dog with the name "Buster" I'd stay right away from).
Killed a goose! I find that difficult to believe having been chased by a pack (host? gaggle?) of geese when I was a kid. They frightened the life out of me. This Buster must have come at a solitary goose (a young one?) from behind because no self respecting goose would be scared a measly canine.
Here's my poem (for kids) on "The Goose".

THE GOOSE.
No one can be friendly with a goose;
A goose does not make friends;
You can touch its feathers, stroke its head,
But there the friendship ends.

Now ducks, they say, can be good friends
And dogs - it goes without saying;
Cats can be your soul mates - if they wish!
And horses too (you can tell by the way they are neighing).

Even goldfish have a friendly streak,
And tigers purr and play;
And I am told that even wild boars
May nod to you "Good day".

But a goose? Never.
No, not a goose - EVER!
A goose is warlike, hasn't heard of peace;
There is, I tell you, only one other thing more frightening than a goose
And that is geese.