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| Photo courtesy of CBC News |
3:00am. A muted yelp then the boom of guttural barking. Not since last year had we heard a fox bark in the night, but now we had our trusty two year old Labrador to answer. Jeanne lumbered from bed to soothe the dog and assure her the ongoing yips posed no imminent danger, at least not to us. A few hours later on their early morning walk a commotion by the dam startled Jeanne and Cassie, and a Canada Goose erupted from the tall grass running flat-footed for the edge of the lake. As it tried to swim from shore Jeanne observed it dragging one wing flat on the water. The fox had been busy in the overnight hours.
Jeanne described the episode to me at breakfast, and throughout the morning we gazed at the goose through binoculars sitting on the far shore continuously preening her limp right wing. Occasionally she would slowly plod a few yards to a new resting place and preen once more. Our hearts ached for her suffering.
In the afternoon I researched prognoses for injured geese and watched related Animal Planet videos on YouTube. It turns out Canada Geese with a broken wing can linger for some time as long as they have easy water access for evading predators and sufficient grazing for sustenance. Going a step further I contacted the Virginia Wildlife Center. They said that they would be happy to try to rehab her or refer us to other other facilities if we could safely secure and transport her. After weighing the probability of catching her (unlikely) coupled with the additional trauma and possible aggravation to her injury, we decided to leave her be. Henceforth our ward, we dubbed her “Winnie.”
Throughout the following days we kept tabs on our dear Winnie, viewing her move from place to place around the shoreline and occasionally venturing some yards into the meadow to graze. We have an annual pair of nesting geese, Fred and Ginger, who normally drive all other geese from the lake in early spring, but they showed complete deference to Winnie. To our amusement when other rogue pairs of geese landed on the lake, Winnie would hide under the dock while Fred and Ginger thrashed it out with the interlopers.
On the third day my worst imaginings unfolded. Cassie and I left the house for an off-leash walk, and I thought Winnie was safely tucked away in a far cove. As Cassie and I ambled along the opposite shore, she bolted at lightning speed for something out of sight several yards away. I heard a splash and honking and stood in horror as Winnie emerged on the water with Cassie swimming in close pursuit. Winnie was slow, having to drag her wing, and Cassie kept pace a mere five feet behind her. Every few moments Winnie lurched upward and forward using her other wing, but it exhausted her. Cassie lost no distance. I shouted urgently, “Leave it! Leave it!” to no avail. Finally, in the middle of the lake Winnie gave out and turned to face her aggressor. I gulped, bracing for the inevitable, then could not believe my eyes. Fred and Ginger swooped down and splashed into the water right next to them honking wildly. For Cassie, survival instinct nudged out prey instinct and she turned back. I sighed in relief and tried to hold my heart in my chest. I would not be so negligent again.
The next day with peace restored, Jeanne and I would catch glimpses of Winnie continuing her routine - preening, slow ambling, bobbing for underwater vegetation, resting. We mused that she might keep up this existence for some time. But it was not to be. This morning to prepare for Cassie’s walk I scanned the shoreline. In the distance I spied Fred and Ginger swimming slow circles near the shore and to my surprise saw another pair very near them doing the same. All four were neither agitated nor fighting. Just above them on the face of the dam lay Winnie, her head tucked beneath her bad wing. She was as still as an angel.
After breakfast I gathered her lifeless body. The other geese quietly dispersed. This afternoon I will bury her on the hillside overlooking the water. God bless you, Winnie.
