What could explain an infatuation with geese? I don't mean cute little blue-and-white painted figures stenciled on a curlicued wooden heart. No, I'm talking about geese fully feathered and honking. The kind who attack body parts, create smelly bogs and sound like rusty gates...and have achieved a level of self-righteous justification seldom attained in the animal kingdom.
Geese are never in the wrong. Masters of the strategy that the best defense is a good offense and ever on the lookout for provocation, they are easily affronted. At any reproof from me - "What are you two doing on the porch?" - they stretch their necks and the rusty gate intonation takes on a note of disbelief.
"Who, us? You are addressing us? We are as innocent of any wrongdoing as day from night, as succulent new grass from nasty green weeds...and what are you doing in our yard?"
My strange attraction stems in part from two books read at an impressionable age: Konrad Lorenz's King Solomon's Ring, which made geese endearing, and Jessamyn West's Friendly Persuasion, which made them smart.
But mostly, it's Lucy's fault.
I first met Lucy when I arrived home from school one day some 40 years ago, startled to find a goose sitting in an improvised cardboard pen in our farmhouse kitchen. My mother had succumbed to Lucy's charm when some friends needed to get rid of a pet who had grown too big and noisy.
"I had no intention of taking her," my mom said, "but...." I looked at Lucy with her long, slender neck and her gray-brown markings laced with white. She cocked her head and fixed me with a bright gaze from a golden-rimmed dark eye.
"Queeee-eeg?" said Lucy softly.
Is a Goose for You?
Can't wait to have a Lucy of your own? Here are some points to consider:
- Are geese allowed? Check with municipal or county agencies to see if keeping geese is permitted where you live and what regulations apply. You might need to have an enclosed pen, and there may be specifications such as pen size, distance from property lines and number of birds.
- What's involved? Domestic geese are interesting, amusing, flock animals who form strong social bonds and generally do best with six or seven of their own kind. Basic requirements include a secure outdoor space, including water to swim in; protection from predators and harsh weather; an appropriate diet and veterinary care. Very noisy and aggressive in the defense of territory, geese must be supervised around small children. With good care, geese can live well into their teens and beyond; a lifetime commitment is required.
- Sources. Hatchlings can be purchased online or through local feed stores. Geese in need of new homes are available through a network of farm-animal sanctuaries and rescue groups.
- Geese need help. Numerically, far fewer geese (perhaps "only" 150,000) are slaughtered each year in the United States as compared to ducks (25 million) and chickens (9 billion). Nevertheless, as long as animals raised for food receive no protection under the Animal Welfare Act, every manner of neglect and abuse can and does occur in their rearing, transport and slaughter. Contact the ASPCA's Government Affairs and Public Policy department to become involved in helping to pass legislation to protect all farm animals Send an e-mail to government@aspca.org, or call (212) 876-7700, ext. 4550.
It was the kind of sound a question mark might make if you stretched it all the way out to the end. Mom didn't have to explain her change of heart.
Despite her charm, Lucy was soon moved outside, a change she resisted. But after several unsuccessful assaults on the kitchen, she attached herself to the nearby garage.
She also fell in love. The object of her affection was, in fact, an object: an old red wagon parked next to the garage. This love, although unrequited, never dimmed. Lucy defended the wagon fiercely, making my daily hay-hauling duties to the horses in the front pasture a test of wills. Hissing, honking, wings flapping, Lucy would follow me and her wagon all the way to the pasture, feinting at me with her beak, her fat body swaying from side to side as she tried to keep up. Only when the wagon was once again parked beside the garage could she relax. Even then I could hear her talking it over, clicking her beak across the wagon's rusted sides. "What a terrible thing! I took care of her, though - don't you worry!"
In spite of the histrionics, Lucy rarely bit anyone. My dad was the exception, owing to the fact that Lucy's self-designated sphere of influence, next to the garage, was my dad's favorite retreat. There he found solace for the soul, repairing broken appliances and ailing cars. This particular day, Dad was tinkering with his favorite '37 Oldsmobile when he dropped a wrench in the dirt next to the garage. As he leaned over to pick it up, a portion of his anatomy crossed the boundary of what Lucy regarded as her territory. She retaliated with vigor and lightening speed. Dad was, unfortunately, wearing his favorite 1942 Navy track shorts.
The loud "Dag-nabbits!" (Dad's strongest language) and shrill honks brought my mother, my four siblings and me running outside. There we were treated to the sight of a grown man in patriotic but threadbare shorts chasing a goose around the yard, shouting murderous threats of what would happen when he caught her. Although normally Lucy wouldn't have been a match for my dad, she was moving surprisingly fast, becoming almost airborne at times. Luckily for her, it was hot. The combatants soon returned to their respective sides, Lucy making indignant goose remarks to herself, smoothing her ruffled feathers; my dad muttering, "Roast goose, yessir! One of these days that goose will be Christmas dinner!"
My nine-year-old brother, Ted, had other plans for Lucy. He had decided to enter her in the Pet Parade at the Porterville Community Fair. The fair was big in Porterville. It was to summer what the rodeo was to spring and the Armistice Day parade was to fall. A kickoff event for the fair was the Pet Parade, with prizes for the cutest pet, biggest pet, smallest pet, best costume, and so forth.
Ted planned to leash-train Lucy, envisioning the two of them strolling triumphantly into the arena accompanied by the crowd's applause. The plan suffered a setback when Lucy squatted down and refused to budge; nor did it help that Ted had postponed training until an hour before the opening drumroll. Meanwhile, my sister Jane, who was 10, had been working on her entry, our Shetland pony, Pepper. Ted planned to show Lucy as Mother Goose, but finding costume parts and forcing them on a reluctant bird took more time than he had allotted. My sister, a punctual person, was furious.
"Now we're too late to walk! What are we going to do?" She burst into tears.
Lucy, excited, began honking.
Resources
- The Book of Geese: A Complete Guide to Raising the Home Flock by David Holderread, 1993. The Hen House, P. O. Box 492, Corvallis, OR 97339; (541) 929-5338. Everything that a first-timer needs to know.
- www.feathersite.com/Poultry/BRKPoultryPage.html. The comprehensive yet cozy website of Barry Koffler, an aficionado of many kinds of fowl.
- www.farmsanctuary.org/. The Shelter/Adoptions button leads to care tips, space requirements, veterinary information and even some of the costs involved in keeping geese. Best of all, Farm Sanctuary maintains an adoption network. An adoption application is available online as well as by calling (607) 583-2276, ext. 223. Knowledgeable staff and volunteers are available to answer questions and offer advice.