Just kidding…we used an old flannel sheet.
Living in the ‘burbs you’d be surprised at the random wildlife sightings we have. Earlier this week I spotted an ambling turtle on the grounds of the middle school and there was some strange black fairy winged creature playing the recorder and tambourine in my house…wait that was just the girls bored out of their minds Labor Day weekend and raiding our Halloween costume stash. See also who the heck decides it’s a good idea to teach kids to play the recorder in music class? (Note to self…recorder must mysteriously “disappear.”)
Any way, hubby went for a walk Monday and when he came home he told the girls he had something to show them up at our local park.
An injured Canada goose was just sitting in the middle of the field. Hubby couldn’t really miss spotting the goose as he was surrounded by a half dozen or so people from our neighborhood, no doubt all wondering what the heck to do with an injured goose.
I made a couple of calls to local wildlife groups but it was Labor Day and most places were closed so I was only getting recordings. I’ve had luck with random animal rescues in the past, as in the great bunny rescue of spring 2012 episode, so it just didn’t feel right to give up on the goose. Plus he’d quite literally be a sitting duck, sorry for the corny bird humor, all night for any neighborhood dog let out on their nightly sniff and pee break or even a fox from the nearby woods.
About 20 minutes after they’d checked on the goose we got a call back from Walden’s Puddle here in Middle Tennessee, a wonderful facility that rehabilitates injured wildlife. The problem was we needed to transport the goose to them.
By that time it was closing on on 5 p.m. and a misty, cool rain had started to fall. Hubby decided to walk back to the park and check on our Canadian feathered friend to see if he was still there. The thought of the wild bird sitting out in the wet weather, injured and unprotected, was not something he liked at all. I was admittedly hoping that someone else was out there commandeering To Catch A Goose.
He returned about 10 minutes later and announced, “We are going to CATCH A GOOSE!” Hubby said the goose was still sitting in the field, but this time he was all alone…in the rain. Poor goose!
I grew up on a farm and helped wrangle calves and chickens and all sorts of creatures, but a wild goose? Never.
Hubby had the brilliant idea to bring a large bed sheet to help corral the goose. As we approached the goose he gave us the stink eye. “OH HECK NO” his body language was saying. The poor goose couldn’t fly, though, and he made his best attempt to feebly run from us and weakly spread his wings. We cornered him up by a chain link fence, much to the amusement of the boy who lived at the house behind said fence who probably found it amusing to see two 40-something parents and their kids trying to herd a goose. We quickly dropped the sheet over the goose and hubby was able to gently scoop him up. I guess the goose realized he needed help as he didn’t put up much of a fight.
Hubby placed the goose in a large storage tub (we’d punched a hole in the lid) and soon we were on our way to make the hour round trip to Joelton in the rain in my SUV, now nicknamed the Goosebulance.
Who says life in the burbs is boring?