According to the note I wrote on my kitchen calendar I set that other hen with a goose egg the night of May 30. The hen is a Mottled Houdan, a 5-toed feather-crested bird named Moogle. She did a great job of setting, sticking tight on the nest night & day with just a short break each day. I wasn't expecting her egg to hatch until Tues or Wed, but this afternoon I was surprised to look in her pen & see a cute lil' gosling standing at the door, fully dried & fluffy. Awwwww! I said & reached in to pick it up and give it a cuddle. Moogle was just sitting in the nest box. But when I put the gosling back in the pen Moogle lunged out of the nest box & started giving the gosling hard pecks on the back of its little neck! Wheep! Wheep! Wheep!!! it cried pitifully. I immediately lifted it back up and left the door open for Moogle to go out.
I don't know if Moogle had turned into Broody Dearest, or if she was provoked by my presence, or if she just couldn't see well through all those facial feathers. No matter, I will not give her another chance to hurt this gosling. I opened the gate to the pen & she went running out. She's still going around sort of puffed up & bluck-bluck-blucking but I figure her dials will reset themselves to UNbroody soon.
Meanwhile I was wondering just what to do with this brand-new gosling, still sporting its little egg tooth. Though I was willing to brood it myself in a box indoors, I really wasn't looking forward to having yet another set of food & water dishes to fill & clean. Then I looked over at Biscuit, the little bantam hen with her own 4-day-old gosling. I know that sometimes Mama hens are reluctant to accept chicks they didn't hatch themselves. But when I put the new hatchling in the pen it just snuggled up under Biscuit's chest and she didn't seem bothered a bit. The other gosling seemed really interested in its new sibling and excited to see another member of its own species so near.
Dear little Biscuit, she's going to save me a lot of work by adopting this new gosling and raising it with her "own". I'm so glad to see how fertile my goose's eggs are, four out of five I've set under hens have hatched! Now I'm waiting for Gertrude the goose to hatch the three eggs she's setting on. My gander, Elmer, is striding around the yard handing out cigars.
On a sad note, Tarantula, the first bantam hen I tried to have hatch a goose egg, has died. She never went broody again, but just hung out with the laying flock. Then the other day I found her on the ground with her head under a gap in the fence. She hadn't been gnawed upon, I think perhaps she was chasing a bug or something, got her head stuck, and twisted her neck. I buried her under the peach tree, where I put all my dear departed broody hens. I like to think of them helping the crop of fuzzy-faced peaches thrive each season.