I am a recently-converted Canada goose lover.  I work for the Ohio 
Wildlife Center, a rehabilitation facility in central Ohio.  My boyfriend, 
Dave (also an employee of OWC) came home one afternoon with that
"Please don't kill me" look.  He brought me to his car, opened the door
and said, "I had to give him a chance." 

In his car in a plastic tub was this tiny yellow fuzz ball, lying helplessly on
his back. He stared up at me behind frightened, round eyes and began
furiously kicking his feet in frustration. 

My heart melted.  

"I love him."  

Tully, as he later became known, was purposely hit by a rock and 
couldn't stand up straight.  Thus, he'd fall on his back and side and
regressed every day that he wasn't receiving physical therapy.  The
majority of clinic staff lost hope and were going to put him down unless
he could get personal attention.  Dave offered to take him in for a
weekend to see if we could get him to stand. 

I love my Tully with all my heart and am crossing my fingers for his
successful release! 

UPDATE: Tully was successfully rehabilitated and released.