Tripping over a dead rat is a more powerful morning "pick-me-up" than all the coffee Juan Valdez ever produced. Thus began my day.
With coffee in hand, I slid the back door open to marvel at God's rural blessings - horses nickering in the morning mist, the faint chatter of geese in the barn, chickens cackling a greeting, hungry kittens chirping at my feet, flies buzzing on the patio. ...... Flies?
Hmmmmmmm....... I know that sound. I'm a crime scene investigator; I KNOW that sound. Fortunately my friends, the flies, saved me from actually stepping on the rather unwelcome morning guest who lay on my patio. His appearance threw a monkey wrench into our routine and this upset all the hungry stomachs along the cafeteria line, for while I was off in search of a shovel to remove the rat, they were NOT getting their breakfast.
Horses started pawing and pounding, geese began screaming, and cats stood beside their bowls and cried. Chaos reigned while the dogs and I removed the rat. (Their only role in this chore was running back and forth to hurry me along my task but they were quite serious about it.)
There was much internal debate. I have six cats. If I threw that rotting rodent anywhere the cats could reach, his little furry, fly-bait self would be back on my porch, so I flung that dead rat into a pampas grass bush in the corner of my property.
As soon as I set the shovel down and resumed the regular routine, harmony was restored. I fed the cats, fed the horses, fed the geese, fed the chickens, took the dogs on a walk, turned the goats out, moved the horses, fed the dogs, and then --- turned the geese out.
It was time to sit back in my lawn chair and enjoy my coffee while I watched them explore their world. But there was a problem. They didn't want to explore their world today. They wanted to explore ME. So much for relaxing. This did, however, give me greater opportunity to observe personalities. As yet, the only way I can tell them apart is by their beaks. Each goose has a dinstinctive cream-colored mark on his or her beak. Once I figured this out, individual personalities emerged. I gave them temporary names using the beak marks (Dot, Stripe, Hook, Snip, and Blank) They will get real names when I can figure out their sex and personality.
Dot has already become Speck because I think he is a male. He is larger than the others and the most shy. Speck always puts himself on the fringes of the group and avoid contact with me. I'm still waiting on a permanent name for him (or her).
Stripe is the boldest. I think he is a male, but the jury is still out. He is also larger. Stripe is the first to chase the cat, first chase the goat, and explore his enviornment.
Hook has become Haiku. I don't know if he is male or female, but the hook-shaped marking has now changed to look like some kind of Oriental writing. Haiku is the goose most liking to be pulling your pants leg or untying your shoe.
Snip is still waiting on a name. Also tremendously friendly. Screams bloody murder when you pick him up, but comes right back for more as soon as you set him down. LOVES attention.
Blank has officially become BLING. I have suspected that Bling is female because she is smaller and more delicate than the others. Bling is also the goose most likely to grab jewelry. She adores my ring. A toe ring would simply send her into waves of hysterical delight. Today I decided for certain the Bling is a girl, because today she ran off with one of my bright pink Crocs flip-flops. Bling grabbed up that flip-flop and waddled off with Snip and Haiku in hot pursuit. That girl has some smooth moves and would be an asset to any basketball team. Yessirree, give that girl some jewelry and bright pink flip-flops!
:) s
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