I can vouch for the eating. Mostly just the breast meat is eaten. Greasy, nothing special. Some people will turn the leg meat into sausages or pepperettes, which aren’t too bad… if you like gas station Hot Rods or Slim Jims, you like 'em.
I’m late, but I’ll say it anyway…it’s a Canada Goose, dammit! Animals don’t get citizenship.
And can confirm, wasp-level assholes.
The owl just sat there and that was scary? There’s one here that likes to stalk my dog when we go jogging at night. The owl would never go for it but it is a little spooky hearing the hoots follow you as you go along.
That’s the kind of primal fear that reaches right down to your mouse-brain. 
BTW, it’s a Canada Goose, not Canadian Goose. Many are born and raised in the US.
What can I tell you. The circumstances.
At work we have a wonderful office cat. Here’s the “but”. I was really totally into and absorbed by my desk work one day when I happened to sit back and turn my head… only to get the living crap scared out of me (although for a split second): Unbeknownst to me, our cat had parked himself on my bookshelf off to my right. His face was only a couple of feet away from me – and for who knows how long, he had been staring at me. When I turned my head, all my brain saw was a predator. The reaction of my “mouse-brain” (as put by @euansmith) or – as I put it – my reptilian brain.
Your Mouse Brain is the bit that is scared of your Reptilian Brain 
When I was living along the shore of Lake Erie, my kid and I would celebrate the insanely loud return of the Canada Goose from parts unknown.
The migration involved thousands upon thousands flying in and honking en masse all night long.
Upon settling at the shore, the would drop and hatch their younguns, and THAT’S when you found out just how gnarly and protective these beasties are.
The will chase you to exhaustion while honking violently the entire time.
I was with a family that had a two year old that inadvertently got too close to some chicks. Don’t know if it were male or female, but one goose took direct umbrage with the child, took after him and nothing would stop that bird.
The kid ran screaming into his dad’s arms who took off. That freaking bird was now chasing them both.
All us grownups were stomping, screaming, attempting to chase, but absolutely nothing deterred that bird. I mean NOTHING!
Finally someone got a car door opened, we all got in as fast we could and split the scene fast.
Thing is, I have tons of photos of the geese and their progeny from before as well as after this encounter. They are truly gorgeous, and their honking is when appreciated, mighty humorous.
Watching them overhead in numbers is always inspiration for discussion. Even among the locals who detest them.
I suspect that with the exception of the flamingo and emu, there are very few less aerodynamic birds. Yet watching these birds flying in formation as graceful as Baryshnikov is quite the sight.
Some Canada geese migrate as far south as Mexico. If people started calling them Mexican geese, it would make about as much sense. And be equally wrong.
Ever met the cackling goose? People often mistake the Canada goose for a cackling. They’re virtually identical.
A Canada goose is not strictly Canadian and since they spend a good part of the year eating garbage in Florida I’m advocating renaming them the Florida goose.
I live in an area where migratory geese fly over every autumn. I totally agree with you about the sight of them in the air- when they’re not pooping and hissing on the ground, they are magnificant to see flying in huge formations!
I live next a creek where geese and ducks spend the warmer parts of the year. On the ninth floor, I generally see them flying from above which is actually pretty amazing.
But the noise… Geese and ducks are active at 3 in the morning. I don’t know what they’re doing but they make sure we humans hear it.
Squeak-hiss. Squeak-hiss, I say!
That sounds like something the movie, “Tombstone”; some real, downhome wisdom.
James Thurber has a riff on this:
You could dress up a pigeon in a tiny suit of evening clothes and put a tiny silk hat on his head and a tiny gold-headed cane under his wing and send him walking into my room at night. It would make no impression on me. I would not shout, “Good gracious, the birds are in charge!” But you could send an owl into my room, dressed only in the feathers it was born with, and no monkey busines, and I would pull the covers over my head and scream.
from his essay “An Owl In My Room”
As for Canada geese::
And yet they’re the assholes?
Well, that explains some of my internal dialogue…
Nah. They’ll just kill her last in the great goose uprising.
Ok, need to figure out how to tell them apart…before Zhristmas. 
♫ Oh the geese they do fly high over Calgary
Yes the geese they do fly high over Calgary
Oh the geese they do fly high
And they shit right in your eye
And I’m glad that moose don’t fly over Calgary ♫
