I won't tell you the detailed history of why Gary ended up with a spare plastic goose.
Let's just leave it at this: A few years back, Gary had a spare plastic goose, at about the same time his parents had a hawk.
The hawk would eat rabbits and peck out their brains right in front of the S______'s picture window.
Gary brought the goose to scare off the hawk, and the S______s set it out in the front yard next to the Jesus sign.
The backyard Jesus sign is now in the front yard because it protects them from evil like a big green mezuzah. It didn't do much to protect the bunnies. Happily, the hawk was not afraid of Jesus, but it was afraid of the goose.
Last weekend when Gary went to visit his parents, he came back with bad news.
"Someone stole the goose from my parent's yard. And the Jesus sign."
I squelched the urge to say, "JESUS!" Instead I said, "Probably kids. Remember when we found our porch chair in one of the vacant lots?" Then we said 'Damn kids' and shook our canes.
I went on, "If it isn't kids ... I can see someone wanting the goose, maybe, but who would steal a Jesus sign?"
Gary said, "And that's not the weirdest thing. Driving out of the subdivision I saw the goose. By somebody's mailbox. But no Jesus sign. I called my parents to see if they wanted me to steal it back, but they said no."
I was ready to hire an FBI profiler, but the answer came to me before I had to get inside the head of a Jesus-loving Canadian Goose coveter.
The house next door to the S_____s is for sale. I don't think Crazy Jesus Goose added to the curb appeal. I don;t know how he ended up separated from Jesus and on another street. But maybe I don't want to know.