Goose Bumps

Late one afternoon I was crossing the lawn when I was distracted by a high-pitched piping call. A lost gosling appeared from the undergrowth, calling for help but receiving no response. I picked it up and searched the garden for an adult Egyptian goose in vain. 

Resolving to take it to the World of Birds first thing the next morning, I tried feeding it a mushy cereal, but it wasn’t interested. I put it in a cardboard box lined with a towel and closed it in the spare bedroom so that our cat couldn’t get at it.

I left it there with a saucer of water – foolishly. In the morning, the poor little thing was cold and wet and barely alive. Rushing to the car, I cursed myself for not thinking of the importance of keeping it warm and dry. Sadly, it died before I reached the end of the road.

Yes, many goslings do die, but Egyptian geese are still one of the most abundant birds around. Give them a patch of water with grassy fields nearby and they’ll thrive. What could be better than the Hout Bay River, flanked with grassy open spaces and bodies of water like the holding pond above Longkloof Weir.

Peak breeding season is approaching and there’s no peace in our valley these days. At first light the cacophony starts up, rises to a haggling crescendo, then drops down to a steady, monotonous “kaah, kaah, kaah, kaah.”

The other morning we were idly watching two geese involved in an aerial dogfight and I wondered aloud why they don’t land on our roof. “Probably don’t like corrugated iron,” said Siegie. “There’s no grip for their feet.”

Instead, they land on our neighbour’s nice tiled roof. One does just that around 8am and soon starts advertising her presence. Honking loudly, she marches along the top edge, stopping now and then to cock her head and listen, shaking her tail. Shameless hussy.

Both male and female geese look alike, but I know it’s a “she” because of her loud mouth. Like a fishwife, she shouts out and others shout back at her from the pine trees on the other side of the river.

If our mother goose is lucky, her mate will land beside her to join her rooftop patrol. Stretching out his neck, his rasping hiss is a far more genteel style of communication.

Once the goslings appear and the geese settle into being attentive parents, I know I’ll forget all about those annoying wake-up calls. If I’m lucky, I’ll watch in wonder as mum and dad herd their brood of tiny fluffy brown creatures towards our koi pond.

Such vulnerable babes need vigilant parents’ in order to survive the rough ride to adulthood. Goshawks and other birds of prey can’t wait to get their talons into them, not to mention the threat posed by domestic pets.

You really can’t blame Mr and Mrs Goose for honking and hissing then. After all, we get in a flap too if our kids are threatened. It’s enough to give you goose bumps …