The common domesticated goose can be a surprsingly vicious beast...  But then again, so can a nine-year-old boy.  Riding my bicycle along the neighborhood canal this afternoon, I was witness to a confrontation between these forces of nature.

The boy was walking along the grassy lawn next to the canal with a challenge in his posture.  He wanted to terrorize the goose.  He wanted to make it honk and flap and flop-flop-flop away to the other side of the canal.  He wanted to prove his bravery and manliness to his younger brother who was watching from a safe distance.

But the goose was protecting its turf, waddling uneasily, spreading and folding its wings, looking around nervously.  As the boy stepped closer, the goose retreated a couple of steps.  But then, suddenly, the goose charged -- flapping its wings and sticking its goosey tongue between its partially-opened beak.  A low honking sound squeezed its way out with each shifting of its weight.  The goose became large and intimidating.

And the boy ran, covering his head with his arms.

The goose gave up the chase and returned to its territory, the victor, the vanquisher.  Then the boy called for the soccer ball that his younger brother had been holding -- so he could wheel around and fling it at the goose.  He missed, but the goose flopped down the bank of the canal a few meters further, and that seemed to be the end of the confrontation.

My only question is:  Who won the battle of the Goose and Boy?