Good-bye Feathered Friends

One year ago four beautiful little goslings arrived at our farm: fluffy feathery balls with great big feet, each fit in the palm of your hand. There were two little geese and two little ganders each with a fanciful name.

The goslings at eight days old

They were wonderfully cared for and not a thing wasn't done to make their lives healthy and happy; Lexie thought they were the most precious things in the world next to her own bright and beautiful child. They grew to look exactly like what American Buff geese should be and they were great fun to have on the farm.

The goslings at four months old - aren't they lovely!

And then last winter they took a good look at each other, and like any healthy, happy geese, their thoughts turned to love and they paired off. Each gander had a lovely goose to call his own and call they both did. And then Bergamot decided that possibly, just possibly, he should go the extra step of making sure that no usurper could take away the love of his life (geese mate for life and the lives are about 25 years long.) Then the other gander made the same decision and all life forms on the farm that were clearly not a goose, needed to be harassed and chased away with head down, neck stretched, wings flapping, full out running. I can't begin to describe how a 15 pound bird could possibly make you feel as though you should run for your life, but these guys can do it!


As responsible animal owners, one and all knew that running was not an option, therefore, plans B, C and D were implemented: B was to go through a pasture other than the one the geese were in, C was to make sure the geese were on the complete other side of the pasture and then quietly slink through and hopefully make it out the other gate before they noticed you, and C was to have a broom in-hand to yield as a shield in front of yourself. We all became adept at the required forms of evasion, though Lexie showed a definite preference for plan B.

And then goat kidding/milking season was upon us. Proper consideration of the noise levels and general chaos had not been sufficiently analyzed. Milking became a stressful time, even after luring the marauding beasts out of the barn into their outside yard, due to general complaints at now being outside of the 'action'. Have any of you attempted milking in this environment? It can certainly be done but it isn't calm and it isn't lovely, both of which is my normal milking experience with my goat girls. So it came down to this - delicious, fresh, wonderful milk, or the screaming banshees. Guess which won.

The geese have gone to a new home. One where there are also goats, but of the fiber inclination, not the milking kind, where noise and marauding can be happily continued by eight webbed feet. They should be happy there and next year they will be raising babies :-)