This just in ... !!

News Flash from home – as flashy as you can get in Vermont. Something seems to be going on in the goose coop. Richard reports that Ginger and Mary Ann aren’t as squawky and het up as they had been before. When he got close to the coop window this morning, instead of the familiar furor of scolding protests, the girls calmly clucked and chatted. Richard surmises something’s up beneath, that there’s either movement in the eggs or – glory be – some eggs have hatched. No idea yet. They may be a little more civil, but they’re still not giving him a peak. We do know the egg count is down from 8 to 5, several of the eggs were cracked when the girls rolled them to the back of the coop for a more hay cushioned area during the recent frost. Royce opined that if the eggs cracked, Ginger and Mary Ann probably ate them. You need your energy sitting on a nest all day and night.

This past week I took a quick dash up to our place on my day off – taking off from New York City at 9 pm and arriving around 2 am for a one and a half day stay. A bit of a tiring stretch, but well worth it for an infusion of New England countryside. Schmul was in rare father-to-be form, pacing the perimeter of the coop, his own private maternity ward walk, on patrol, on guard. Whenever Richard and I would get anywhere near, he’d come out to confront us, stretching his neck down and out to its full length and when we’d point our finger at him with a firm “no” he’d turn and screech out a high alarm, echoed immediately by the girl’s lower Selma Diamond register from inside the coop on the nest. This was repeated continuously throughout the day as we walked back and forth from the house to the garden we were weeding and planting right near the goose coop. I had to hand it to him, though; he was doing his job. Being the male, protecting the women folk. It was impressive. When I went to turn him in that night he refused to go. Usually I can grab his beak, turn him, and wave him up to the back gate of their pen with ease, but he would not be turned. I tried to turn him and pick him up, another maneuver which has worked in the past. Nope. He squirmed and bit and flapped his wings. At one time I had his beak closed with one hand, and stretched away at arms length away from me, and he took swipes at me with his wings. You could hear the wind whip and whoosh with the force of each thrown punch, as if he were wielding a sword. He was not going to back off without a fight. Finally, I was able to pick him up, tote him up to the gate to the coop fence, toss him gently in only to have him turn quickly and grab hold of my jeans in his beak and wrench his neck back and forth. This was a fight to the finish. He’s something.

Earlier that day I had marveled at him. In the late afternoon he went up to the coop and escorted the girls – first Ginger and then about an hour later, Mary Ann – off their nest for a leisurely stroll around the property. They munched grass together, took a swim and a wash in the kiddie pool, another munch or 2, a stretch, a walk around the house. I’m sure this was all instinctual, but it looked so gentlemanly, as if he were Cary Grant in a white dinner jacket, taking his bedraggled babes out for a quick night on the town, treating them with class. So beautiful.

The next morning, just before I left for the ride back to the city, Schmul seemed surprised when Mary Ann got off the nest and walked out for a munch without him having gone to get her. There was such a bickering and jabbering back and forth as they ate grass beside one another:

Schmul: What are you doing?!
Mary Ann: What do you mean “What am I doing?”
Schmul: You’re off your nest!
Mary Ann: Yeah, I’m off my nest!
Schmul: Get back in there!
Mary Ann: You get back in there!
Schmul: I come and get you. That’s when you get off your nest.
Mary Ann: Oh, those are the rules, huh?!
Schmul: Yeah, those are the rules.
Mary Ann: Gimme a break.

She turns her back and eats some grass.

Schmul: Get back on your nest.
Mary Ann: Whatareyagonnado? Bite me?
Schmul: Oh for cryin’ out loud!
Mary Ann: Yeah, you do that pretty well. Soundin’ the alarm every 5 seconds!
Scmul: I’m lookin’ out for your best interests!
Mary Ann: How’s a constant Code Red in my best interests? Every 5 minutes “Emergency! Emergency!!” You don’t think our kids are hearing that through their shells? They’re gonna be a bunch of wacked out weirdos!
Schmul: You patrol for a while, see how you like it.
Mary Ann: Gladly. I’ll switch places with you anytime you like. I’d like to see how wide your ass gets sittin’ on a nest day and night.
Schmul: Oh, now I like your ass.
Mary Ann: Quit, quit, You can’t make me fall for you, I’m mad.
Schmul: Is that a smile I see?
Mary Ann: I said Stop it! I’m pissed!
Schmul: Try some of my grass over here, baby. It’ll make you feel better.
Mary Ann: I don’t want to feel better.
Schmul: Sure you do.
Mary Ann: Oh Schmul.
Schmul: Oh baby.
Ginger: (from inside the coop) Oh brother!

More news on the coming goslings soon