Behavior of Waterfowl

 

A Springtime Tale of Canadian Geese

 

Ahhh spring!

Time to open windows, let the sunshine in, smell the fresh air washed by rain, and spend time enjoying the leftover coolness abandoned by winter’s thaw. I have been a resident in my townhome for the last few years, and I love it here. As a writer, there is so much to observe, and I find myself participating in the many activities around the neighborhood. I am seldom bored, to say the least. During my free time, I love looking out the window at the nearby small pond situated just outside my stoop. Here, I have an incredible view of daily wildlife unfolding before my eyes. Taking a break from working on my latest manuscript during the spring of COVID-19 in 2020, I observed two Canadian Geese. They’d claimed a spot on the other side of the small pond to build their nest, which was dangerously close to the interconnected roadway of the townhomes. I’ve never been one to observe the goings-on or mating activity of wildlife. Still, this vantage point gave me a front-row seat to the activities of waterfowl. It was interesting, and I was curious.

It was during this time that I first encountered the pair, which I have named Celia and Patrick Goose. I’ve chosen these names because they just feel right. No other reason. This is their story:

April 2020

Initially, I wasn’t impressed with Celia, who had run off a seemingly lone female goose during the mating season. Celia was rude, to say the least. I felt sorry for the other female goose, who was always alone. What happened to her mate, I wondered? However, as I observed Celia, I was fascinated to see how she built her nest from down feathers plucked from her breasts. The lone female would stand around and honk, but Celia ignored her complaints and continued on. For his part, Patrick warded off any animal that got close, even the lone goose, poor thing. Not so much for people, but woe to the domestic dog out for a walk with their doggie parent. Patrick was a force to be reckoned with. He was a formidable protector, and I, for one, thought he would make an excellent future papa.

From then on, I was hooked and very interested.

However, it wasn’t until Brutus and Bertha came on the scene that things really got interesting. I named these other pair of Canadian Geese Brutus and Bertha because they were bullies. Their size difference was substantially larger than Celia and Patrick, which led me to think of them as older birds. I reasoned Celia and Patrick to be much younger and inexperienced—and it showed. It quickly became apparent that Brutus and Bertha would not permit Celia and Patrick to claim this particular spot as their nesting place. Each time Celia built enough nesting material, Brutus and Bertha would swoop in and disturb it, running Celia away and leaving Patrick to defend it as best he could. He was no match for Brutus. Bertha and Celia had a squall or two as well.

Celia always lost.

I cheered for the two underdogs, as it were – Celia and Patrick, and formed an attachment. Witnessing this conflict of ‘wills’ was heartbreaking, with the broody pair losing every battle. Worse, it seemed that Brutus and Bertha had never intended to build a nest for themselves at that spot. It became obvious to me that they were there to disturb—not to nest. Thus it continued for Celia and Patrick throughout that first breeding season. Nothing to show. And no eggs.

April 2021

During the mating and nesting season of 2021, I observed Celia and Patrick again, a bit older now and hopefully wiser. As stated earlier, I am no wildlife expert—only an observer. Having said that, it seemed to me that Patrick was unhappy with Celia using that same particular spot at the pond. He honked at her unmercifully as if to seemingly prevent her from nesting there again. But she was undeterred. This time, it looked like they might successfully claim their favorite spot at the pond without Brutus and Bertha around. Each day that they didn’t show up was a day of possible success. I was becoming more and more hopeful for Celia. But that was not to be.

Brutus and Bertha had returned.

The honking and squawking had become too much. It got worse when, horrified, I observed Brutus grab Patrick by the neck with his beak and flip him over! Did he just wring Patrick’s neck? The brutality was incredible to watch. I didn’t know geese did that! I thought as I watched the incident unfold. Celia had laid three eggs by this time and refused to leave them despite Bertha pushing or trying to run her off. Patrick flew away with Brutus and Bertha in hot pursuit. This brave act of Patrick’s briefly protected Celia. However, I was very concerned about his injury from Brutus’ neck wringing.

I’d had enough of being a bystander and, silly me, thought to grab a broom, determined to separate them if the dastardly pair returned. However, on second thought, I called Urban Wildlife and Rescue of Colorado for guidance. I was told that I couldn’t/shouldn’t intervene.

   “They will just have to work it out among themselves.” I was told by an insistent officer. He went on to further enlighten me about these kinds of “struggles,” as he called them. Later research seemed to support their stance on the issue. So there was nothing I could do but watch.

And, so it was.

###

The next day was no better. The early morning sounds brought a lot more honking than I had experienced before. To say it was loud would be an understatement! I woke to discover the eggs Celia had laid had been lost. One was in the pond, the other smashed in the roadway, and another was in front of the nest Celia had made—empty. I had to investigate, and after closer inspection, I found the three eggs empty. Probably eaten by a predator during the night or that early morning. I can’t be sure, but the grief I observed from Celia was indescribable. She paced and honked as if begging me to do something. I could do nothing. Later, Patrick came to my stoop and honked there. When I went out, he stayed by my side, unmoving. He made only a few squawks but did nothing more. Patrick allowed me to remain by his side for a few minutes, and then he moved off.

I know very little about waterfowl, but it seemed to me that Patrick’s loss needed to be shared with a human with whom he felt safe. Was that me? I’m not sure. But it seemed he was comforted just the same. Celia didn’t bother rebuilding another nest at that location; maybe she did elsewhere, but I doubt it. Geese are territorial, after all, and that was her spot. Another season had come and gone for this pair without success.

April 2022

By this time, I had become very good at determining which goose was Celia and Patrick; after all, Patrick had a little ‘crook’ in his neck from the wringing he got from Brutus the year before. That year, the management company had decided to spray the area Celia had chosen for her nesting spot. I believe this was done to deter nesting so close to the roadway of the pond. But, Oh. My. Goodness. This was too much for Celia. She was so upset. Each time she walked over, she bent her beak to the ground and then raised it again to honk. The other geese friends walked and honked around the property. Patrick even came over and parked himself in the grass of my back patio area to complain. Again, I could do nothing but commiserate. And just like the year before, I don’t believe Celia successfully laid a clutch of eggs.

April 2023

2023 was different. I never saw Brutus and Bertha again, not even last year. I observed Celia doing her usual. She started building her nest, just as before, in the same spot she’d chosen, high on the bank of the pond next to the roadway. There she sat from the first day of April without interruption. I prayed the two bullies wouldn’t come and spoil this event for the mating pair. It seemed to me that Celia and Patrick had gone through so much to make a success of things, but each time since 2020, nothing came of their efforts. Territorial fights, predators, and chemical sprays all added to their heartbreak.

But Celia was determined and persevered.

One week in May brought torrential rain, and at one point, I thought the water in the pond would rise too high, washing away Celia’s nest and destroying the clutch. I was not alone in my concern. One neighbor came out and placed her raincoat over Celia to protect her, but it wouldn’t do. Celia was so protective. She didn’t understand the sentiment, which was heartfelt and supportive.

Eventually, the sun came out, and all seemed well. I thought, “It’s been at least 28 or 30 days since Celia sat on her nest. Surely, it’s time for her eggs to hatch, right? Or were they lost in the rain?” I couldn’t know or be sure. All I could do was watch and wait with Celia.

It was the day before Mother’s Day. Standing at my kitchen window, I looked out at Celia. Miraculously, a tiny form emerged from beneath her feathers. Triumph! Not one, but two, then three baby geese emerged from their shells.

What a day!

I think we can all appreciate the fortitude this one mama goose endured to bring life into the world. The chicks are tiny, to be sure, still a little greenish-yellow, but so cute and worth the wait. I applaud Celia for her determination and perseverance. I applaud Patrick, the protective papa who helped make this day happen for her.

Every year since, they have had one success after another. Even moving closer to my side of the pond…for now. Ha! For me, this story is a tribute to the life that springtime brings. The trees are in bloom, the birds are singing and nesting, and life thrives after a long winter. So, if you ever pass by a ‘broody pair’ of geese, I hope you’re reminded of this story of sacrifice and dedication—of love and rebirth. Of life. Wildlife, like us, seek to reset and in doing so, it isn’t always easy.

But so well worth it.

 

~DaMarie

Photo Courtesy of Pedro Forester DeSilva