Goose

We have a flock of Canadian geese that live on our corporate campus.

They reside here because of the ponds, the green space, and well because they were hatched here. They see no need to migrate South for the winter and so stay on all year.

Most of the time they are a nuisance because they tend to get underfoot and if you aren’t mindful-undercar.

You could say they rule the roost!

Heh.

The geese are protected by the federal government (at least that's what security tells us) so that means when they invade the parking lot and try to cross the road en masse-they have the right of way. We are not allowed to honk, bellow, or cuss at them. We are to at all times give them a wide-berth.

This doesn’t bother me in the slightest because they can be mean little suckers. If you look cross-eyed at a female when she’s nesting, her gander will come running after you hissing and spitting all the way.

It’s kind of romantic really.

So, it’s Springtime in the Ozarks and that means that our grounds abound with fuzzy, baby chicks and their older, gangly cousins. It’s an exciting time for us girls in the training office, because the chicks were allowed to hatch this year.

That is not always the case.

Some seasons the eggs are either addled or sprayed with some such thing that prevents them from ever hatching.

I understand this process keeps down the population, but it is kind of pitiful to see a poor momma goose sitting week after week on eggs that will never hatch. All of her cronies are already taking their young’uns on play dates and enrolling them in preschool.

But this little mother sits and waits-her gander standing gallantly by to protect her from my interference.

Sigh.