The Wannabes

Baby Geese Don’t Swim

Good news! We have gotten ourselves into the business of ducks and geese. I sure think that they are fun to watch, and I’m having all kinds of fun watching them set their eggs. I get to go out and count them, very carefully. Don has to shoo away the adults, and I get to count the eggs, and keep an accurate count on the development of things to come. Sure seems difficult for him to keep the adults away from me, and I have to be very quick about it. Can’t move the fluff from the eggs, he says, and so I just keep a visual idea of if we are going to have babies or not. I can hardly wait!

As the days go by, I quickly realize that the geese and ducks are capable of taking care of themselves, they really don’t want or need my help. We started having little balls of yellow fluff, and then it began to rain. In addition, rain, and rain. Now it appeared to be torrential rains and never ending in 1993. I began to think that we were living in a rain forest, with all of the rain we were getting. No problem of water for the crops now, all we had to do was plant rice instead of corn.

The parents were strutting the youngsters around, and the babies were trying to keep up, but the puddles were getting bigger and bigger, and deeper and deeper. I began to realize the young, out in the pasture were not going to be able to handle 12 inches of rain, their feet wouldn’t touch the ground, or their noses were not going to breathe air, and they were out there not doing very well!!! At least that is what I thought. As I ran out in the rain, with towels, a blow dryer, and extension cords, I decided the youngsters needed help, and that they were helpless, well, not exactly helpless, I was there to take matters into my own hands. Well I found out that for every youngster, there is a set of parents and all of the relatives to watch over them.

Anyway, I ended up outdoors in the pasture, in the rain,(the weathermen were supposed to predict sunshine today) and again we had rain, with all of my contraptions. In addition, of course, lots of puddles of water, in my shoes too. I forgot that boots are required out in the pasture. I began chasing the ducklings and goslings(the little balls of fluff were soaked) and scooping them up, drying them off was a top priority! Putting them anywhere that I could find was interesting but slowly I found I had pockets, down the front of the blouse and where ever, was what I needed to do, just to get these wet rats dry, and back to the little balls of fluff they were supposed to be. God must watch over fools, and I very well ,as the extension cords were actually zip cords, many of them plugged together lying in water OOPS. As I was chasing them out of the puddles, which were beginning to turn into ponds, I was picking them up , with a towel and drying them with a bow dryer, and placing them anywhere they could be warmer and dryer, without realizing the picture of perfection that I was. Seems that I was developing a crowd of onlookers on the highway as I was trying to get the work done. Oh ,well, old mother hen was

out taking care of her children ,as they always do.

Boy, did I have a surprise for me, the parents of the young ,all of them (looked like 200 of them) came at me as if I was the worst thing on the earth, and I was attempting to kill the young. Well, guess why they came at me with such force! You got it. The young were peeping, sticking their biddy little heads out of the pockets and all of the openings available. They were really upset with me, and coming at me to protect the babies. Wings spread apart, heads down, beaks open, snapping and squawking, they could have taken on an army of men, and would have won! We only had around 12 different sets of parents, but at that moment, they looked and felt like 2000 of them. They were squawking and snapping their wings at me and once they got within range, they were biting! Yes, ducks and geese can bite, with their bills! In addition, they do a very good job of it.

Don got home in time to see the commotion. He was leaning on the fence, laughing at me. I must have looked comical. As I was now the one being attacked, I hollered to Don to help me get out of the fenced pasture with the babies, with the parents climbing up my pants, the coat, anywhere there was a possible place to hold onto. Could you believe it, they were attacking me? Me , the one who feeds them.

I finally was able to get to the gate. There was Don, laughing at me. He did attempt to help, told me to quit, and give back the youngsters to the parents, that we were going to have all kinds of problems with the geese if they did not have the young with them.