Geese

There was a country song about what's a girl do with a cowboy when he won't go away. Babette Goose has that problem, only her cowboy is a duck. The duck, the only duck remaining after a series of varmint raids, is a drake, and, with none of his own kind around, he has fallen in love with Babette. Babette, like any self-respecting goose, hates him.

Babette is setting on her nest (I checked, setting, not sitting, is correct in this circumstance), faithfully incubating her eggs. Her cowboy stays with her around the clock, staying about five feet away. If he comes any closer she becomes enraged and attacks him. Geese, especially those setting on eggs, have, for the most part, only two emotional states, disdain and rage.

Bebe, who was sharing a nest with Beth, has built a new nest in the barn next to the spot where the dogs sleep. Bebe tolerates Weasel but hates Ruby, so Weasel can sleep in her normal place in the barn, but poor Ruby spends a lot of time shivering on the porch, waiting for an opportunity to sneak past Bebe to a comfortable spot in the barn. I would like to put the duckies in a stall, but the door of the stall I want to put them in is less than three feet from Bebe's nest. Bebe has a history of poor choices in nesting sites.

Beth's nest is in a small stall in the barn, the same place she has used for years. Beth is older than the other geese, and is of a different family line. If you listen carefully to their vocalizations, you will notice that Beth has an accent. Different clans of geese have different dialects.

Beth is also the only one in the flock that was human-imprinted when she hatched. Beth hatched in an incubator, and the first moving thing she saw, other than her siblings, was me. She accepts me as a clan member, sort of. The other three geese hatched under their mothers in a friend's flock. They put up with me, although Beauregard, the gander, is not about to let me come between him and his ladies.

Geese can live for thirty or forty years, so it is possible to get to know them fairly well as individuals. Bebe and Beth have lived here for five or six years and annually have carried out a routine in which Bebe builds a nest next to Beth's, and then steals Beth's eggs, a few each day. One year I put a divider between them and they both hatched broods, but Bebe somehow attracted all the goslings to her nest, where they then spent their nights for the next six weeks or so. During the day, though, they spent most of their time with Beth, who is the flock's self-appointed day care provider.

Day care, in a gaggle, consists of following the goslings and sounding an alarm if they wander into trouble. Goslings are independent, adventurous, and perfectly bite-sized for possums, coons, bobcats, coyotes, and overly enthusiastic Labrador Retrievers. Beth faithfully follows the goslings in their explorations, calling to Beauregard for help when things start to get out of hand, so to speak.

Goslings like to swim; adults don't care about swimming at all, although they like to bathe daily. Goslings, when several weeks old, will start finding their way down through the woods to the pond. Mind, they can't see the pond from the lawn, but they know water is downhill, and they go to the pond. The goslings will spend the entire day playing in the water, exciting the snapping turtles, and the adults will stay on the shore, never entering the water. Once the goslings grow their adult feathers they no longer care about swimming and, like their more sedate parents, bathe in a tub I provide for the purpose and stop visiting the pond.

The gander instructs the goslings in manners. When a gosling crosses in front of the gander they must stop, face the gander, execute a deep bow, and then go on their way. If they fail to do so the gander pinches them, hard. Some ganders are martinets, demanding the goslings stay in line when marching out to graze, and others are easy-going, allowing the goslings to scatter and be noisy. This will be Beauregard's first year as chief, and only, gander in the yard. He seems to be calm enough.

The goose eggs in the incubator started on March 16, the 75th day of the year. Goose eggs take about 32 days (if I remember correctly, I don't have internet service at the moment, so I can't check). Adding 32 and 75 yields 107, and the 107th day of the year is Friday, April 17. Less than two weeks now. Babette's eggs should hatch in the week after the eggs in the incubator hatch.

At least twice each day I open the incubator, roll the eggs around a bit, and then lightly spray the goose eggs with a water. I don't bother to try and turn each egg exactly 180°, I just roll them around some, and talk to them. There is a pan of water in the incubator that helps provide some humidity, but goose eggs like it a bit more damp than do chicken eggs, and there are eighteen chicken eggs in there with the eleven goose eggs.

I'm not planning on keeping any of the goslings over next winter. The only reason I keep geese is that I enjoy watching them cruise across the lawn; our heavy navy. Other than during nesting season, they are fair guardians. They seldom actually attack, but they can be very intimidating. Their eggs are great, I think. I eat them fried and like them, but most people prefer them in egg custards and baked goods.

Roast goose is a treat that everyone should have a chance to try, once. I might be wrong, but based on flavor I would guess that roast goose is a prize-winning cholesterol delivery system, although one should consider that the goose is primarily grass-fed, not corn-fed. I prefer roast goose to duck, certainly, but duck eggs are better eating than are goose eggs.

Eating roast goose is a wonderful experience; preparing a goose for roasting is not. Geese are covered with goose down, and plucking it all out can take an hour or more. Goose down tends to plug up plucking machines, so commercial processors don't like to do them, either.

The easiest way to pluck a goose I have found is to first pluck out all the large feathers, using the normal hot water dip first, except you will need to put some detergent in the water to cut through the oil in the feathers. After you have only down left, coat the entire goose with hot wax, allow the wax to harden, and peel it off. After you do this several times, you finally have a goose that can wear a bikini to the roasting pan.