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I came home and drove to the back yard to unload some supplies for an upcoming celebration. I startled the wild life. Birds flew away, squirrels scampered away to the safety of a nearby tree and a family of Canadian Geese stood and ambled into the water.
Since I'm on crutches myself, I had to wait for my wife to make her way through the house and down the stairs to open the basement. I took a moment to smell the roses so to speak. I noticed that one of the Goslings was peep peep peeping away and having a tough time getting to the water. The adult Geese peered from the water, hesitant to return to the cries of its offspring in light of my presence. My wife came out and we went down to see if we could help.
The Gosling had managed to hobble into the bulrushes at the waters edge, getting stuck, while struggling and pleading for it's parents. Under their watchful eyes, I stooped and lifted the fearful fur ball and tossed it into the water near it;s parents. We watched as the family turned to paddle away. The little one struggling as it listed to the left. The family slowed their pace. We returned to our task of unloading the car.
An hour later while relaxing on the back deck, I surveyed and noticed the family had returned to the shore in a neighboring yard. Mom and Dad sat with heads high on visual alert. Two of the three Goslings pecked the ground for food and there, by Mama Goose's breast was the little one I'd returned to them earlier. Exhausted, it just laid
Since I'm on crutches myself, I had to wait for my wife to make her way through the house and down the stairs to open the basement. I took a moment to smell the roses so to speak. I noticed that one of the Goslings was peep peep peeping away and having a tough time getting to the water. The adult Geese peered from the water, hesitant to return to the cries of its offspring in light of my presence. My wife came out and we went down to see if we could help.
The Gosling had managed to hobble into the bulrushes at the waters edge, getting stuck, while struggling and pleading for it's parents. Under their watchful eyes, I stooped and lifted the fearful fur ball and tossed it into the water near it;s parents. We watched as the family turned to paddle away. The little one struggling as it listed to the left. The family slowed their pace. We returned to our task of unloading the car.
An hour later while relaxing on the back deck, I surveyed and noticed the family had returned to the shore in a neighboring yard. Mom and Dad sat with heads high on visual alert. Two of the three Goslings pecked the ground for food and there, by Mama Goose's breast was the little one I'd returned to them earlier. Exhausted, it just laid
in a heap of fluff.
I'm watching and wondering, do I intervene? Can I get a net and go get it and take it to a rescue? Not likely in my own hobbled state. So I watch and tears form in my eyes as my heart aches.
Little one made it up and in the most pitiful manner, rocked and rolled its way yo the water where the family once again swam off, the one struggling to stay upright. They disappeared behind a dock and I haven't seen them since. I can't imagine the Gosling survived and I don't want to imagine the pain of the Mother.
Nature sucks sometimes. Maybe I should have intervened. I can't get it out of my mind. My mind wanders to my pet mallards when I was just a young boy. I got them as ducklings and as adults I could whistle and they'd come to me like a family pet. I should've intervened...?
I'm disturbed by the part of me that did not intervene. We should do good where and when we can. I hope my optimistic soft-hearted nature is not hardening.
DW
