The babies are out of the nest. Whether it is time, or whether they got frightened and jumped? The parents are defending them fiercely; I almost got attacked by a hovering bird when I went to inspect. Would you cross this fierce looking catbird?
And in case looking fierce wasn't enough, I got a lecture too:
I did count all four babies hiding in the garden. They have plenty to hide under, and I'm hopeful that they will be safe:
Our young geese are out of the nest as well. We made the reluctant but necessary decision to relocate them to a neighbor's pond, as I had truly forgotten just how messy waterfowl are. Guineas have dry droppings, but waterfowl do not.
Last night we loaded them into a crate, and put them into the back of my car for the drive to the pond. The pond has other domestic geese on it, and they are fed regularly - truly a goose paradise. However, getting them into the crate, the crate into the car, and then herding them down to the pond - that was a slice of non-heaven.
I caught each of the eight of them, and got them in the crate. These are virtually fully grown geese we are talking about. Each weighs about ten pounds, and they were not happy. I was liberally covered with eau de goose poop by the time I had them all in the crate. Let's just say that agitated geese develop an amazing ability to project a long and forceful stream of liquid "poopage," as Gentle Palm says, and leave it at that.
Well, actually, I can't leave it at that. Goose poop is pretty much the theme of this tale. You see, none of the big kids were home, so Defender of Liberty had to help me get the crate into the car. Since the crate had eighty pounds of goose in it, this involved getting the crate into a large wheelbarrow, and then maneuvering it into the back of my car.
As I was pulling the crate into the car, and D of L was pushing, she got in the line of fire, and took a goose poop hit for the team - directly in the face. Now, my sweet pea D of L is a girly girl, as I have mentioned here, and doesn't really enjoy dirt, sweat, or animal husbandry. To tell the truth, she can't stand them. So getting nailed in the face was pretty much not a good experience for her. Her clothes didn't look so good, either.
We finally got the crate in the car, and headed out. I had put a tarp down under the crate, but was still worried about what the back of my car would look like. The geese were quiet on the way over, which I hoped was a good sign. We got to our friends' house, and opened the back. Remember the prom scene from "Carrie?" My car looked like that, except with goose poop rather than blood. I guess I'll be moving up the timetable to replace the car....
We got the crate down (which involved only about another quart of poop landsliding out of the crate and onto me,) and began to herd the geese down the long path through the woods to the pond. One of the geese pooped out on the walk (sorry, couldn't resist) and had to be carried. Yep, another opportunity. This time involved shooting repeated streams down my leg and into my shoe. I figured at this point I couldn't smell any worse. Hah!
We got to the pond. The geese had never seen water, so they were reluctant to go in. The banks were steep and muddy. You can see where this is going, can't you? Yes, right on my kiester and into the pond. At least it washed off some of the goose poop.
We left the geese with the local flock, happily eating grass and corn. Getting the young ones out of the nest is never easy, but last night certainly put it in perspective. I sure won't be complaining about carrying Mlle's belongings up four flights to her dorm room this fall.....
I howled with laughter. I hope nothing more than your, and DOL's, dignity was injured!
I've tagged your for a meme, read all about it at Henbogle.http://henbogle.blogspot.com/2007/06/its-all-about-me.html
Ali
Posted by: Ali | June 26, 2007 at 09:44 PM