The First Gosling!

Our first new gosling has been born!! We’re pretty sure that it’s Mary Ann’s, a girl, presently residing under her mother, tucked beneath with a nudge from a beak when Richard craned in for a peek. No imprinting on humans this go round. Ginger is on nest duty, sitting on the 4 remaining eggs, a bit nervous and jittery Richard reports. Schmul is spending most of his time in the coop with the girls rather than patrolling outside, though he did come out to chase the Canada gander away from the area when he came snooping around. Everyone is calmer, quieter - still protective, but not so harried and paranoid. I’m glad I’m traveling up again tomorrow to see first-hand what’s going on rather than just hearing news passed on from Richard. It sounds like a sweet time.

This time last year the girls were wee things themselves, hatched in an ingenious incubator cobbled out of an old rectangular green cooler, designed by Richard with some added electrical guidance from Royce. By little twists of fate and timing, I had been the one present when the hatching and/or delivery of various chicks had occurred before the geese, Richard having been out of town on family business, so this time he was determined to be present. He had put in a transparent piece of plexiglass on the top of the cooler so he could see the goings on inside without opening the lid and letting the moisture out, humidity needed to soften the shells and help the goslings peck out of their hard shells. As they started to come out, so tiny and adorable with these huge over-sized webbed feet, Richard kept shoving me away from the plexiglass, saying to them: “Imprint on me! I’m your papa!” And though he knew the moisture needed to be contained, Richard couldn’t contain himself from opening and re-opening the lid and finally had to help Mary Ann out of her shell. There for a while we thought that aid might have stunted her in some way, but those fears were unfounded.

They both grew by leaps and bounds, graduating to ever bigger holding pens and jabbering for our attention and presence. When we finally took them outside to sun in a pen when the warmer weather came their cries whenever we’d get out of their sight were mistaken for cries of distress by the Canada Geese nesting on our pond and they flew to the rescue like the goose equivilant of child services in a huff of alarm, hissing and stretching their wings overhead “Karate Kid” style. A close call. (You can read about this at more length by referencing blogs from last year.)

This year will be different. I love Schmul and his protective presence around the yard, but I do miss the idea of being the only “men” in the girl’s lives. I feel like we’re parents giving our daughters over to a young suitor, a future husband. And he must be Mormon because there’s a whole lot of “Big Love” going on in our backyard. Those hussies. We’ll see how it all works out, letting nature do its thing, both with the raising of our little flock and how that flock interacts with the Canada brood nesting on the pond this year. I had urged Richard to move the Canadians off the pond to avoid any showdowns and allow our crew to have free rein of the pond, but he didn’t do it. He’s a big advocate of letting nature take its course. He’s also a bit squeamish about interfering in the affairs of pets and animals, even when said interference means trimming claws or combing natty knots out of hair. But he’s also had the whole run of the place while I’ve been working in New York City and trudging across to an icy pond to shew away geese while having to do chores and other jobs and general upkeep probably didn’t top his “to do” list. Again, we shall see. It should be interesting.

Last year the girls befriended the Canada Goose family and were allowed into their inner circle, as if they were a pair of odd, dear aunts from another wing of the family. The Canada gander would hiss out boundary settings when they got a little too close to their goslings, but other than that the girls were allowed to swim near them, rest on the bank of the pond beside them, take part in “family gatherings.” It was sweet to watch. I’d often wonder what was going through our girl’s little goose heads when it came to reconciling us being their imprinted parents while these other swimming, feathered, different yet similar creatures seemed so like kin. And the Canada gander seemed nonplussed when we would call the girls home for the night and they would come swimming over, flapping their wings and running with us back to their pen, and obediently stepping into their coop to be latched in for the night. But they cohabited in a state of détente, tolerating one another’s quirks, and this probably due to their being no male influence around the girls. Now with Schmul I don’t think the meeting of goose minds will be quite so smooth. I hope to be proven wrong, but ever since the Canadian’s arrival whenever Schmul has walked over to the pond with the girls, the Canada gander has come swooping over, dive bombing them, and Schmul has reacted in fear. In fact, our geese won’t go over there anymore, won’t even cross the road. Richard prefers to see that as a good thing, especially with new babies being born. And how will Schmul react when the Canadian brood comes across the road to munch on THEIR lawn? More will be revealed.