On Sunday, before the rain started in earnest, Genevieve and I went for a nice walk around the block. She actually did walk about half the route, on her wobbly little legs. We stopped at the pond across the street and watched the surly Canada geese squabble with each other over particular spots of water. Vivi did that whole bend-from-the-waist thing that she does when she's looking at something that defies imagination, and even laughed when the surliest fowl squawked at each other.
Then we turned a corner, literally, and a good twenty geese flew low over our heads, honking madly. Vivi was a few steps ahead of me, but turned in terror and walked/jumped/fell back into my arms, pointing up at them and yelling, "Dat! Dat!" When they were finally out of sight, she let me put her back down to walk some more. A few minutes later, when I heard another flock approaching, I scooped her up just before she went wide-eyed with fright. We made it back home without any more aerial attacks, but even once we were inside, the honking would sent her right back towards me. And then this afternoon, a few minutes outside was punctuated by one overflight that scared her so bad she fell down trying to get to me. Poor little honkophobe.