Coaxing Recalcitrant Geese To And From Their Coop

Last night I was shepherding the geese back up to their coop and something happened that has never happened before. Snow covering the ground is a new experience for them, and they had been out in it all day, sticking mostly to the backyard, our covered porch, and around about the chicken coop where they got their exercise harassing the various breeds of poultry that would come out for a brief stretch. Now as the light in the sky dimmed – 4:30 pm, still amazing to me - they pretty much knew it was time to head up hill to their lodgings. They have given me a little trouble in the past, acting like kids that don’t want to go in yet, complaining for a little more time to stay outside and play. This was different. Maybe it was the white of the landscape that had erased all trace of familiarity. Maybe it was the slog of trudging through snow where once there had been firm, shallow earth and grass. Maybe it was an instinctive maternal energy, I don’t know, but after a mild resistance to going uphill, they both stopped and sat down on the snowy ground as if they were on a nest. I urged them on once, cooing encouragement, and they walked a few more steps, only to stop and nestle down again. And it wasn’t a stubborn defiant act; it was restful, calm, “this is where I belong and it is good.” They looked so sweet and content. But the fact remained that they had to get to their coop and they weren’t budging. And so, expecting them to scatter, I reached over to cradle them both in my arms and carry them AND THEY LET ME!! If you have been reading this blog you’ll know how rare verging on impossible this is. Though they’re devoted to and firmly imprinted on both Richard and me and follow us in a quick waddle or arm flapping flurry wherever we go outside, when we do turn directly to them for a bit of affection, a hug or a nuzzle, they scurry dash away, as if we’re trying to look up their skirts or something. Not this time. I bent down and reached around them both and lifted them off the ground. There was a brief flapping of webbed feet straining for earthy purchase in the air, but it was gone almost immediately. They relaxed. I congratulated them on their behavior and enjoyed the cuddle of goose down all the way to their open door. A quick dispatch through the door, a rustle, a quick trip to the galvanized feed pail to fill up their food tray, a water bucket check to be sure that it hadn’t iced over during the day, and then a slow shut of the door, wishing them both a good night. Once the door was shut, I stood there waiting to hear them cluck talk to one another in muffled tones and then the watery sploosh of them submerging their heads in the water bucket before taking a silent drink. It’s the sound of all’s well with the world to me.

Right now, both Richard and I are nestled inside, hunkered down for the 4 to 9 inch snow that’s forecast for today, the eastern version of the storm that’s been working its way across the country. The Vermont edition of said storm looks quite fetching so far. The chickens are staying in today. I went up around 8 to let the geese out, late for us, and Ginger came to the door, immediately assessed the situation and the countryside and with an “Are you kidding?” attitude, retreated back into the house. Mary Ann, who’s become the more adventurous of the 2, came to the door next and almost jumped down, her head down in intense concentration gauging the jump, her right foot doing test waves in the air. But it was not to be. Ginger’s constant chattering in the background may have worn her down for she too stepped away from the door. Plan 2 needed to go into effect. What is Plan 2 you ask? I have no idea. Actually, it would be Plan 3 for Plan 2 would be to just keep them in their house all day, a Plan we discovered Royce had opted for a couple of the days we had been gone recently.

Plan 3! Open their back pen. First step, continue covering the fenced in area adjacent to the coop so there’s a little protection and they can come out and slowly get used to the new climate with a sense of extended shelter. I went down to the now snow covered pile of old barn wood we’d taken off before putting the new pine siding up and placed it over the back entrance and then stooped hobbit-like and walked in the fenced in area underneath the sheltering boards and opened the back door which then turns into a comfortable ramp for them to use. I had to scrape a path through the wood shavings at the door, shavings that cushion the bottom of their coop, a bottom frequently in need of refluffing with a rake. You can figure out why it’s in need of constant refluffing. I was no sooner out of the pen then they both ventured out, curious, seemingly quite comfortable, exploring and poking through the fallen brown leaves and cornstalks on the ground, grateful for an outdoor stretch. I tossed in a bunch of lettuce and cabbage leaves Richard got yesterday from a feed store, compost in place of the grass they usually forage for all day. They liked that. They didn’t much care for the dried timothy grass I tossed in as well. It’s supposed to be good for them, but we may have to soak it before they find it palatable. All in all, though, Plan 3 seems to be working. The only thing we’re wary about are predators. A weasel could easily get in the back pen. We’re banking that it may be a little too early in the season for predators and that geese are much larger than chickens, possibly better able to defend themselves, but what do we know, this is our first winter wintering our poultry; we’ll learn through experience. We’re monitoring the coop from our back kitchen window to make sure they’re fine. So far, so good.

Off to other writing now, just wanted to keep checking in. It’s pretty gorgeous here. I would say about 3 to 4 inches on the ground so far. Not much snow falling at the moment, just a lot of blowing about. It’s good. It’s all good.

Have a great day.