frozen

Our goslings arrived!

I hear the dog bark as he races for the road. Barking, barking, barking. That can only mean one thing: the mailman is here. The mail coming is always an exciting event around here, perhaps because it is heralded with such fanfare by the dog, but today we are expecting our geese.

I’ve decided we have the world’s most laid back mail man because even with our lab mix staring him down and threatening to eat him alive, he casually steps out of his jeep, pats the barking beast on the back and strolls to the back of his vehicle. Four children descend upon him.

“Do you have our geese?! Do you have our geese?!”

“I don’t know what it is, but it looks like a duck. It sounds like a duck. I think it might be a duck.”

The children look at him questioningly for a moment but decide to let it slide as he hands them a cardboard box full of holes. They are beside themselves with anticipation.

Of course, the camera battery is dead. The poor goslings have been in that box for three days, but I decide a few more minutes won’t hurt. I put the battery in the charger and send the children to tell their father the geese have arrived. Mostly just to get them away from the box.

We open it up to find that geese are very different from chickens. “Mama! Mama!” they shout. It sounds like a sing songy sort of peeping, but the meaning is clear.

The little goslings are adopted by the children as quickly as we were adopted by them and I decide that maybe the dining room table isn’t the best place to get acquainted with poultry.

We feed them. Water them. Discover that they know they are geese and know what water is for.

And let them settle in for a bit. I want to take more pictures but it starts to rain. The chicks all run for shelter, but the goslings all run out to play. I decide to leave them to it.

When the sun comes out in the evening, I decide to try for some more pictures. But geese are very different than chickens. My chickens follow me around because they are expecting food. If I make any actual motion toward them, they scatter. Every time I get down to try to get a picture of the goslings, however, I am charged by eight little fluff balls who want to climb in my lap and be snuggled.

I do way more snuggling than picture taking.

Being babies (only three days old) they haven’t quite got their balance. They stumble over their own feet, and a good tug on a blade of grass sends them tumbling backwards when it finally snaps free. They also have the newborn propensity for just suddenly falling asleep amidst all the commotion.

If you would like to know more about our little pilgrim geese and what they have to do with our organic gardening project, try not to laugh too hard at me in my first little instructive video.

And check out Sweet Shot Tuesday for some more sweet shots. Even if it isn’t Tuesday any more.