The geese have to be herded in; otherwise they'd sleep in the open. It involves calmly walking behind them until they're all in the coop. They're never opposed to going in, but it's not something that occurs to them to do on their own.
My muscovies go in on their own. I keep a dog crate in the coop for my drake, to keep him from bothering the girls until I let them out in the mornings, and he'll wait in his crate until I go in and close him up. Muscovies are like horses in that respect: once they know their own stall, they naturally go to it in the evenings. The chickens also wander in to their coop on their own. If I need them to go in earlier, they're trained to come to a chicken song.
Sung to the tune of "Chick Chick" by Rollin Wang Rong:
Chicken chicken chicken chicken chicken chicken chicken boo, chicken chicken chicken chicken chicken chicken chicken boo (repeat)
Lyrics by me, because I'm just that creative and original.
The guineas are the fun ones! I keep young guineas confined to the coop until they're 20 weeks old to get them good and used to sleeping in there. I've tried letting them out at younger ages, but the allure of the trees is too much for them. By 20 weeks, it's like they've become slave to habit, and they'd probably go in on their own if I ever let them. Unfortunately, they like to stay out until the last dregs of sunlight are left, and by then there's a good chance the lower visibility will cause a few to get confused near the coop entrance and wind up in the trees at night. So about 30 minutes before sunset, I walk out with a scoop of feed singing the guinea song.
Sung to the tune of the breakdown part of "My Lovin'" by En Vogue:
Guinea guinea guinea guinea guinea guinea, guinea guinea guinea guinea guinea guinea. Guinea guinea guinea, guinea guinea.
. . . and repeat until the coop is reached. Lyrics by my husband, who's clearly a gifted and talented song writer.
The guineas come running from all corners of the property when they hear that song. I pour food into the troughs in their coop, and the dominant half will go in. For the rest, my husband has to herd them in from behind while I stand to one side of the coop so they'll go inside instead of endlessly circling the coop. Where larger gestures hinder, little, royalty style hand waves help with guiding; I don't know how or why, but they do. My husband and I have tried switching roles here, but the guineas are too comfortable with me to move when I try herding them. Almost always there's one who veers off last second. I've found that cussing and yelling at the guinea about its stupidity and utter uselessness, while it doesn't phase it in the least or shame it into going inside any sooner, certainly relieves my frustration over the whole process. And once that last guinea goes in he always gets a nice handful of grain as a reward, mostly because I know his hesitation has more to do with his place in the hierarchy and nothing to do with any failure of intelligence on his part. Come to think of it, he's got me well trained into giving him that grain every night. Crafty stinker.
I inevitability get that one maverick on occasion who decides to go rogue and I need to go chase them down to remind them who's boss.
