Bruce & Fanny are our pair of geese. We actually purchased a trio but Cordelia turned out to be a Colin and two ganders in a trio is just too much for the poor old chickens to deal with. I gave Cordelia (aka Colin) to a grain grower who in turn gave me 10kg cracked corn. That lucky gander was going to woo and schmooze 10 love-starved geese on his property with a damn. Damn he must be one happy honker now.
Anyhoo, Bruce and Fanny are a lovely couple, always caring and sharing, swimming together in the old clam-shaped wading pool. Fanny tried to hatch out a batch of giant eggs but was unsuccessful. She tried a second batch but at that stage I was not wanting them so I kept taking her eggs when she left the nest which was located safely inside the chook pens.
So-o-o she thought bugger you chum I will lay them out in the paddock under the lantana bush. We lock up out poultry every night to protect them from the foxes and no matter who tried, none of us could get near her nest to move her. She is a feisty feathered female. Bruce was happy to be locked up every night so she stayed out every night alone.
Now Bruce, the big sook, when released every morning went straight to her, honking and carrying on and every morning she totally ignored him. She had his DNA and she was perfectly happy. He suffered, he complained and then it struck him....Bruce became my new best friend. He followed me, he told me all about it and he complained when I left him alone. If I was in the paddock he was right behind me (at least he knows his place!). Eventually I sat down on a log and listened to his sad tale for 5 minutes. He sat with me and it was nice but I was finding the midday sun a bit much and had to leave him again. Poor fella'. Eventually I let him into the back yard where he was able to keep tabs on me with more efficiency. When I watered the plants with recycled wash water he was there. When I hung out the washing, he was there. But when I sat at my computer, which allows me to look out over the back veranda and yard, he decided he would be there. Slowly this orange beak and pleading eyes ascended the six steps to the veranda. He was sent back down but once again Bruce the Desperate gradually made his way up those steps again.
Meanwhile, Fanny, whose nest was not far from our bedroom window, was braving the nights alone. Then one night it happened. The Lovely Husband and I were about to fall asleep when the goose was attacked. We could hear her calls recede down the paddock. Out of bed we leaped, torches grabbed and boots on to try and rescue Fanny. Now, I sleep in pyjamas, I love pyjamas, girly ones, funny ones, whatever but the Lovely Husband sleeps naked. So had the situation been less serious it would have been quite funny. We ran through the paddock but had to stop a couple of times to listen for her calls but eventually we tracked her down. The fox had dropped her. Speculation of why is an interesting discussion. She is a large bird with a good wing span and may have been too big and struggled too much. It could have been our voices and torchlight. My favourite though is the site of the Lovely Husband in his best outfit leaping across the paddock in hot pursuit of said fox. Whatever takes your fancy really.
The poor thing was badly traumatised and I thought she would die. She survived the first night but looked very unwell. She barely ate and was swollen around the base of her neck. One her eyes was damaged and she moved as little as possible. For three or four days she was very unwell, the gander, to his credit, looked after her beautifully. He never left her side. Late one afternoon I thought I saw a tick hanging from the base of her beak. When captured, the teens and I were able to remove a fully engorged paralysis tick. It was a wonder it did not kill her. Poor Fanny must have had the mother of all headaches though.
Fanny is back to her normal self (except for her eye which looks permanently damaged) and the pair of them are once again caring and sharing. Bruce has dumped my like a hot potato but I am coping admirably.
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