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A Goose's Tale I was born in October 2004 and had one sibling. We were called Bob and Liz after the Organic Growers Association inspector and his wife. The organic inspection was a few days after our birth, so our mistress felt it was appropriate to name us after them. Unfortunately, my sibling was taken at 10 days of age by a goshawk. We are just a bundle of yellow fluff at that age: no match for a big, bad, hungry goshawk. Needless to say, Bob and Liz became "B.L.", my new name. My mother is called Emily. She has had a fairly charmed life and is now head goose as the old matriarch. Nikko was taken one night by a predator of some sort (four-legged would be my guess). There is a bit of a pecking-order problem with our clan, as we consist of five males and two females. The testosterone has been running rampant since early May and will go on until the end of October. It is a very stressful time because if Mum and Eliza Jane sit on a nest in the bush (and there is no moving them; they are very stubborn), they become vulnerable to attack. My mum Emily is pretty smart; she set up her nest by the house last year and, out of four eggs, produced my sibling and me. We loved the dams, swimming our little hearts out at three days of age; we could hardly walk, but you should have seen us swim! Even though we all act and move as a herd, when danger threatens it's every goose for himself or herself; the big boys aren’t much chop as protectors. On the other hand, if a human comes within coo-ee and shows any fear, we go into attack mode and can inflict some real pain. Speaking of testosterone, I like to be near my mum, but the big boys see me as some sort of threat and those beaks of theirs have a very strong pinching action. When the big boys fight amongst themselves and bash each other with their wings and bite with their beaks, blood can flow. Wayne is my dad; he will be 10 in November, and he is the handsome Chinese goose with the black knob on his head. Dad is a very tricky goose because Jackie is the head honcho (a white supremacist English Emden mix); and I can only assume that while Jackie was fighting Frank (ol' blue eyes), dad snuck in and had his way with mum. I must say that goose mating is not a pretty sight. The gander grabs the female at the back of her neck and pushes her head under to improve his angle; and while this is going on, all of the clan is making enough noise to wake the dead. One trait I picked up from mum and Eliza Jane is the ability to fly. Dad was never taught to fly – and if a goose gets to 11 months to a year old without learning to fly, they never get the hang of it. When we are let out of our enclosure in the morning, we go rocketing up the hill with much flapping of wings and goosey exuberance – and if you get a real run on, you become airborne. I, being young and sprightly, tend to get a bit higher than the others, which is fine except I often go over the neighbour’s fence. And because it doesn't occur to me to fly back to the mob, I end up honking and yelling to be rescued. As I write this, I recall this morning being on the neighbour’s land and being spooked by their border collie and ferocious poodle, and flying 500 metres down the hill to the spring-fed dam on Ernie's property. My mistress had to lead the entire mob down to join me because, once on this dam, I won't move for anybody other than my clan. I am such a goose, but I'm very cute. |
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Address: 37 Maple Street, Maleny Qld 4552, Australia Telephone: (07) 5494 2088 (int'l +61 7 5494 2088) Fax: (07) 5499 9246 (int'l +61 7 5499 9246) Email: info@maplestreetco-op.com.au, or maplest.coop@serv.net.au Website: www.maplestreetco-op.com.au |