Golly disappeared without a trace yesterday. She and her sister Gussie were lying next to the house, soaking up some winter sun at 2:20 p.m. when I was out cleaning coops. At minutes after 3, I went back out to take fresh water, and she was gone. No signs of struggle, no feathers, no blood and no Golly.
Gussie and I both called for her. I searched under and inside everywhere she could have gone. Nothing. What's odd is that I ALWAYS jump up and check outside whenever I hear any of the waterfowl making unusual noises. Usually, it's a motorcycle driving by, a rare human visitor or an eagle in the top of the big evergreen. But, yesterday, nothing.
An American Buff goose is a big girl. Perhaps, an eagle could carry one. But, I'm pretty sure I'd notice a massive bird carrying my massive bird past the windows above where Gussie and Golly liked to sleep. The prime suspect is a coyote -- stealthy and large enough to snag a goose and dash off.
I am heartbroken for myself and for Gussie. They were the only goslings left at the farm store -- where I shop every Tuesday morning -- nearly eight years ago. One look at their sweet little faces, and I was hooked. Never mind that I'd never had geese and didn't have suitable living quarters for them. They were brooded in one of the upstairs bedrooms and housing was built.
As goslings, it sounded like they were saying, "what, what" all the time -- which is what I started saying to let them know their meals were delivered. After they grew up and moved outdoors, I could yell, "What, what" and watch them come waddling toward me expectedly.
They were inseparable and would call out when they couldn't immediately see each other. Sometimes only a few feet separated them, but if they didn't have visual contact, they began calling until they were side by side again.
They had distinct personalities: Gussie is peaceful and demure; Golly was all out and assertive. She once threw a wing into my face, resulting in a black eye. People were clearly skeptical when I said I was slugged by a goose.
I can't imagine not seeing them scoot down the driveway together, joyously doing zoomies; "knocking" on the glass door, trying to barge into my house; or calling out their sharp duets.
I am gutted over her loss. Safe and sassy one minute, gone the next. I now have to find the best solution for Gussie, who cried out for her sister last night when I was closing up the coop. That brought me to tears. If they weren't beside the house, the goose girls usually laid next to the runner ducks pen, maybe gloating a bit that they had more freedom. I never expected them to be guard geese, but they were great at sounding alarms. Now, I'm afraid to let Gussie out of her own lonely run.
Although my plan is to let attrition slowly reduce my flocks and herds (now down to only one sheep and two goats, for example), I can't leave poor Gussie alone. I've considered waiting until she starts to lay in the spring and trading eggs for a couple of hatchery goslings. I've never had a gander, but Gussie is fiercely protective of her eggs; maybe she would feel the same about youngsters? But, American Buffs can live 15 years or more. I'm no spring chicken myself and I MAY not still want to live out in the country alone, tending critters that far into the future.
If I bring in an adult goose, what if they don't get along? But rehoming Gussie would mean taking everything familiar away from her when she's already unsettled and grieving (and, there's no doubt in my mind that she IS grieving). I have always been concerned about what would become of one when the other passed. I thought I'd have years to figure it out.
Last week, I lost my 17-year-old cat and I miss Ziva terribly. But, she was old and sick; Golly was not old and in perfect health. I had time to prepare to lose Ziva; Golly was gone without warning in an instant. I am not handling loss well at all.
Gussie and I both called for her. I searched under and inside everywhere she could have gone. Nothing. What's odd is that I ALWAYS jump up and check outside whenever I hear any of the waterfowl making unusual noises. Usually, it's a motorcycle driving by, a rare human visitor or an eagle in the top of the big evergreen. But, yesterday, nothing.
An American Buff goose is a big girl. Perhaps, an eagle could carry one. But, I'm pretty sure I'd notice a massive bird carrying my massive bird past the windows above where Gussie and Golly liked to sleep. The prime suspect is a coyote -- stealthy and large enough to snag a goose and dash off.
I am heartbroken for myself and for Gussie. They were the only goslings left at the farm store -- where I shop every Tuesday morning -- nearly eight years ago. One look at their sweet little faces, and I was hooked. Never mind that I'd never had geese and didn't have suitable living quarters for them. They were brooded in one of the upstairs bedrooms and housing was built.
As goslings, it sounded like they were saying, "what, what" all the time -- which is what I started saying to let them know their meals were delivered. After they grew up and moved outdoors, I could yell, "What, what" and watch them come waddling toward me expectedly.
They were inseparable and would call out when they couldn't immediately see each other. Sometimes only a few feet separated them, but if they didn't have visual contact, they began calling until they were side by side again.
They had distinct personalities: Gussie is peaceful and demure; Golly was all out and assertive. She once threw a wing into my face, resulting in a black eye. People were clearly skeptical when I said I was slugged by a goose.
I can't imagine not seeing them scoot down the driveway together, joyously doing zoomies; "knocking" on the glass door, trying to barge into my house; or calling out their sharp duets.
I am gutted over her loss. Safe and sassy one minute, gone the next. I now have to find the best solution for Gussie, who cried out for her sister last night when I was closing up the coop. That brought me to tears. If they weren't beside the house, the goose girls usually laid next to the runner ducks pen, maybe gloating a bit that they had more freedom. I never expected them to be guard geese, but they were great at sounding alarms. Now, I'm afraid to let Gussie out of her own lonely run.
Although my plan is to let attrition slowly reduce my flocks and herds (now down to only one sheep and two goats, for example), I can't leave poor Gussie alone. I've considered waiting until she starts to lay in the spring and trading eggs for a couple of hatchery goslings. I've never had a gander, but Gussie is fiercely protective of her eggs; maybe she would feel the same about youngsters? But, American Buffs can live 15 years or more. I'm no spring chicken myself and I MAY not still want to live out in the country alone, tending critters that far into the future.
If I bring in an adult goose, what if they don't get along? But rehoming Gussie would mean taking everything familiar away from her when she's already unsettled and grieving (and, there's no doubt in my mind that she IS grieving). I have always been concerned about what would become of one when the other passed. I thought I'd have years to figure it out.
Last week, I lost my 17-year-old cat and I miss Ziva terribly. But, she was old and sick; Golly was not old and in perfect health. I had time to prepare to lose Ziva; Golly was gone without warning in an instant. I am not handling loss well at all.
