I was passed a torch, so to speak.  A torch in the form of a tiny tuft of lemon yellow fuzz and feathers.  The mission was simple; take the gosling to the Green Belt in Idaho Falls; find him new parents; let him go.  But before all that there was the long stretch of road between Tetonia and his potential new home.  The constant chirping and peeping coming from the back seat, reminding me he was still there and it would be another sixty miles before he could get out and have a new family.  The worry.  Would it work?  Had we changed him irrevocably?  Would he choose a new goose life or come waddling back to a human and the safe haven of the box filled with the buffalo fur stuffed sock?

The day was gorgeous.  The one break in a long spell of rain and clouds.  The sun glittered off the running water and the river was crowded with people who came to watch the birds.  There were geese everywhere!  All different shapes and sizes.  But on first inspection – no babies.  We walked a ways down the river.  He must have sensed where he was and that there were dozens of his kind all around.  The box started shaking; the peeping, louder.  Up ahead was a pair of parent geese with a brood of babies.  But the babies were much bigger than him.  They had lost their bright yellow feathers and awkwardly followed their parents, pecking in the moist spring grass.  I figured it was worth a try.  Once out of his box, he looked around in bewilderment.  All these geese!  Where was he?? Still in my hands, he started flapping his wings, trying desperately to fly toward them.  Letting him down, he immediately waddled over … but with trepidation.  They were so big!  He was so small.  The parents didn’t seem to notice his size difference.  I thought for a moment it might work.  Then one of the larger babies started pecking the little one.  As I reached out to snatch him back up, he started to run in their direction. Even a home of pecking brothers and sisters was worth it.  They were geese!  His kind.  He wanted to go home.  I put him back in the box.  Back to the buffalo sock.  Back to the car to drive around to the other side of the river and try again.

It was quieter on the other side and there were fewer geese.  Down stream there was an outcropping of trees.  Beneath it, circling around in the shade, were some tiny specks following a pair of geese.  Could they be goslings?  Then we saw them.  Five tiny geese and their parents swimming near the bank.  We quickly got out the bread and started tossing it in the direction of the geese, luring them on shore.  No member of the family would get out of the water so I put him down, hoping he wouldn’t run into the water and someone would have to wade out to retrieve him if they wouldn’t take him.  It was worth the chance.  Five tiny goslings, bright lemon yellow with tufts of black, just like him.

There was a drop off on the bank. He slowly moved toward it, directed by peeping of baby geese.  Looking over the edge, he saw them.  His reserve seemed to melt away and he ran down the steep slope into the water and the throes of his new family.  After a few seconds we couldn’t even tell which one he was.  We watched for a few minutes trying to pick him out.  “It’s that one in the water.” “No, I saw him go around that one,” so on and on.  It had worked.  He had a new home.  After the bread was gone the family went adrift in the cool spring water.  Swimming around close to the shore.  Six little babies where moments ago there were only five.  They darted behind their parents; struggling to keep up in the current.  Every once in a while one of the parents would move in front of the line of babies, slowing the water down and letting them catch up.  I hoped he wouldn’t trail behind the others due to his tiny webbed feet being unused to water.  He didn’t.  All the goslings stayed together and sunned themselves in the glistening afternoon water.

We sat there and watched them for a while.  A lone goose swam over to the babies and started beating its wings; one of the parents flew over and chased him away.  They were protecting their brood.  They were protecting him.  One of the goslings kept close to the parents while the others trailed behind, getting caught up in the current.  Though we couldn’t tell them apart anymore, I like to think that was him.  Not wanting to leave his new family.  Not wanting to get left behind and forgotten again.

And the day wore on … the family of geese with their new addition waltzing in the sparkling water as passers-by oohed and awed.  Swimming in and out of currents.  Getting caught up and gently drifting to the beat of the river.  Our little one – a part of it all now.  The torch that was passed to me, I passed on.  He belonged.  He was guarded and nurtured.  Yes, he was home.  He was safe.  He was a goose.

No Comments

• Print
• Share

• Sanctuary Map Explore
• Support the Animals Help to provide food and medical care. Support
• Explore your work through new eyes.Plan a Retreat
• Support Earthfire Help spread the vision of a new way to relate with natureSupport