When is a duck not a duck? When it turns out to be a goose. When is a goose not a goose? When it imprints on humans.
A few weeks ago, a neighbor who works for the city brought us a bundle of yellow fluff. He believed it was a lost baby duck, and since all our ducks had died, he hoped we wanted a new one for our pond. We are suckers for a hard luck story, and we agreed to take the duck and raise it. It's very peaceful to watch a duck gliding around our small pond. On a practical note, a duck keeps the surface moving so pond scum doesn't build up.
So we took in the ball of fluff, despite the fact that we have three dogs who think eating a duck is a very desirable pastime. We had a pen within our dog fence already, due to past events, and we put chicken wire around the bottom of this pen since the duck was so small it could stick its head out of the apertures in the wire fencing. A beheaded duck would be no fun at all.
Of course, you've guessed that the duck was not a duck at all. In fact, it was a Canadian goose. They're very large. Now there's no trace of the yellow fluffy adorability. We have a very opinionated large bird, and she seems to have no intention of leaving our yard to fly away with the goose flocks that honk overhead on their way to somewhere cooler. We still have to keep her separated from the dogs, though now we're more worried about the dogs than the goose.
She'll go down to our pond if one of us goes. But she comes back to the fenced-in area when her escort returns. She's fully grown, but still quite young, and we're hoping she'll hear the call of the wild very soon. We have no intention of being permanent hosts to Goose. (We tried different names, but in the interests of brevity, we settled on Goose.)
Goose is a case of mistaken identity. I'm sure I can use this in a book somehow. Now, she's a case of nature gone awry. Goose has no idea how to be a goose, and we are not the people who can teach her that. We are still hoping instinct will kick in and save her from her saviors. There's a certain irony in the knowledge that unless she overcomes what she's been taught , she can never fulfill her goose destiny.
I know there are parallels to be drawn, here. How often have you accepted a gift, only to find out it was no gift at all, but rather a burden? How often (shall we say) have you accepted a goose in duck's feathers?
On a more serious note, how often have you reacted contrary to instinct, and that reaction served you poorly? Does civilization curb our instincts and blunt our survival skills, or is that very element what makes us more than beasts?
On the other hand, that's a lot to get out of Goose.
How long has goose been with you?
Posted by: chris | July 16, 2009 at 09:18 AM
Let's see. I think 8-10 weeks now.
Posted by: Charlaine Harris | July 16, 2009 at 10:36 AM
Hmm, it shouldn't be too domesticated then.
Try uttering Foie Gras, Foie Gras each time you go past?
Posted by: chris | July 17, 2009 at 08:55 AM
I think you have a new member of the family. :-) Geese are flock animals, and your family is her flock. More important, a goose's flock will teach her how to be a goose and how to survive in the wild. She'll be able to live outdoors, but you'll probably have to provide food some or all of the time, and maybe a bit of shelter, when it gets cold.
The other day I was at my bird veterinarian's office and talked to a fellow with the oddest looking bird. It was part Canada goose and part something else. His property is near a bar, and he thinks some of the patrons have been feeding booze to the wild ducks and geese that live by a nearby pond. (This could explain a lot.) Anyway, the odd-looking baby wandered onto his property, fell in love with him, and now follows him around everywhere. He said he has to sneak out of the house to play Bingo because the bird gets upset at being left behind. (When he said the word "Bingo", the bird made a very distressed sound - it knows the word.)
Welcome to the wonderful and entertaining world of being owned by a bird!
Posted by: Kate | July 18, 2009 at 10:26 AM
I don't know much about geese, but when I was a teen, we had 3 hand-raised ducks that were fun to have around. The male duck would go after our dog, who promptly backed off, even though the dog was large and he was mostly German Shepherd and 1/4 wolf. I've heard geese make great "watchdogs", or maybe "watchbirds".
Posted by: Kristina L. | July 19, 2009 at 11:39 AM
It's been interesting watching Goose grow, but frankly juggling three dogs and Goose is quite a job. I hope that Goose meets a flock she can belong to; she'll never be a true goose unless she does.
Posted by: Charlaine Harris | July 19, 2009 at 01:05 PM
I really liked this book too. My book True Love Is Not Common; www.eloquentbooks.com/TrueLoveIsNotCommon.html, has similar main characters. I grew up reading this author since hig school. And hope that one day my book will reach many people as this author. While writing this book, I did a lot of research on this title, and events that are affecting our lives today.
Posted by: Peter | July 20, 2009 at 02:05 AM
Okay. Does this make anyone want to rush out to investigate this book?
Posted by: Charlaine Harris | July 20, 2009 at 03:24 AM
No, I won't be reading it. How does the Harris clan fancy the idea of Goose for Thanksgiving? Teasing, of course, but good luck, we had a Goose (same name) growing up and it started out as a pleasant experience until our Goose decided that it was funny to bite the butts of every person under 5' which included me. Goose found the screaming funny as she would tottle away honking!
Posted by: Jen Alexander | July 20, 2009 at 09:51 AM
Thank you for the post, i am impressed!
Posted by: electronic dog fence | November 13, 2009 at 10:07 PM