It is inevitable. When Spring comes and I go into the goose house and see the pile of straw in the corner, I know what will follow. There is an egg in there. I bring it in the house. Next day, the same thing happens. I have 2 hens. Only 2, but they both lay. I can tell by the size of the egg who did it. Now, if them laying an egg and me stealing it was the end of it, that would be fine. But it is not. They have beady little eyes and they have tiny little brains, but they do not miss a damn thing. They see me go in and even though I hide the egg I get that day, they make the connection.
If I leave the eggs, the old African Gray hen will set, because that dainty little white Emiden is sure as hell not going to spend her time in that hot goose house setting on a bunch of eggs. If that was all that occurred it might be different, but unfortunately it is not. Across the fence is a pile of old discarded tires and in those tires lives Mr. and Mrs. Snake and 85 of the baby snakes that never left home and have no intentions of ever doing so. The goal of these 87 snakes is to devour the eggs under the little gray goose. Her goal is to not let that happen. I do not know just what my part in all of this is, but I know it is very hard on my heart!
Last night the little gray hen and her big white Emiden lover were the last to go in. He was standing between me and his beloved to protect her. When a goose goes into defense mode, they lower their head and shake their tail feathers. I have never actually been attacked by one of my geese and I am pretty sure they are more afraid of me then I am afraid of them. I have actually held and petted the little gray hen, so that big white Emiden does not scare me one bit. Well, not much anyway.
When I open the door and see the snake on the nest and the little gray goose cowering in the corner, I immediately go into "Kill that bastard" mode. In my heart, all I really want to do is get the hell out of there and pretend I do not know what is going on. But primal feelings deep inside me make it imperative that I "protect the nest". And since I am living in my lala land world most of the time, I do not carry a weapon. So I throw a rock at it. Snakes apparently have straight vision that goes out each side of their head, and the rock goes unseen. Screaming does not help because I am pretty sure snakes are deaf. So I grab what ever is handy. In most cases it is something like a garden rake. Ever try to get a 6 foot bull snake to curl up on a garden rake? It is not happening.
If I leave the eggs, the old African Gray hen will set, because that dainty little white Emiden is sure as hell not going to spend her time in that hot goose house setting on a bunch of eggs. If that was all that occurred it might be different, but unfortunately it is not. Across the fence is a pile of old discarded tires and in those tires lives Mr. and Mrs. Snake and 85 of the baby snakes that never left home and have no intentions of ever doing so. The goal of these 87 snakes is to devour the eggs under the little gray goose. Her goal is to not let that happen. I do not know just what my part in all of this is, but I know it is very hard on my heart!
Last night the little gray hen and her big white Emiden lover were the last to go in. He was standing between me and his beloved to protect her. When a goose goes into defense mode, they lower their head and shake their tail feathers. I have never actually been attacked by one of my geese and I am pretty sure they are more afraid of me then I am afraid of them. I have actually held and petted the little gray hen, so that big white Emiden does not scare me one bit. Well, not much anyway.
When I open the door and see the snake on the nest and the little gray goose cowering in the corner, I immediately go into "Kill that bastard" mode. In my heart, all I really want to do is get the hell out of there and pretend I do not know what is going on. But primal feelings deep inside me make it imperative that I "protect the nest". And since I am living in my lala land world most of the time, I do not carry a weapon. So I throw a rock at it. Snakes apparently have straight vision that goes out each side of their head, and the rock goes unseen. Screaming does not help because I am pretty sure snakes are deaf. So I grab what ever is handy. In most cases it is something like a garden rake. Ever try to get a 6 foot bull snake to curl up on a garden rake? It is not happening.
This is an old picture that shows how the flock protects the babies.
This picture is Bret having killed one of the smaller snakes and disposing of the remains. Now back in Kansas when I was growing up, if a farmer shot a coyote, he hung it on the fence. I always heard that was so the coyotes would not come around lest they end up on the fence. This particular year there were 3 big bull snakes (at least I hope like hell they were bullsnakes) in my back yard not 15 feet from my back door. I have given up gardening because they hide under the squash leaves and scare the living bejeezus out of me.
So while you are comfy in your little town house or wherever you call home, think about this old lady out here fighting off horny geese, rabid skunks, 5 inch grasshoppers. egg eating snakes. And there is no hope just because winter comes. That drives the spiders and centipedes inside. Every summer, I plan on moving into town, but then I have a second thought that beats hell out of that first thought. So here I set, again. My words for today are just this:
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