The Geese That Never Went Near The Water

     

Beatrice and Hannabel

   

   My husband, Bob, was very skeptical of any pets the kids and I brought home. He liked dogs – that was a manly thing. It was all the critters we'd sneak by him that he objected to. Still, because he loved us, he would relent and a new pet was added to our household.

      We had just moved into a house with seven acres of land off a large lake in Winter Haven, Florida. Along with the house there was an artists' shack facing the lake. It seemed like a sublime location. Still, something was needed and the kids and I found the perfect answer.

      While at the local feed store we spotted two geese in a large cage. Daughter Barbara and I looked at each other and nodded simultaneously. They would be a perfect addition to the back yard.

      “But what about Dad?” Son Steve was concerned. Our third child, Pam, was not with us that day.

      “It'll be okay” I assured him, so we crated up Beatrice and Hannabel and headed home. Where to hide them for a while? The artist's shack seemed the perfect answer. We herded them into it, filled a large container with water so they could get wet, and set out a bowl with food. They'd do nicely there until we broke the news to Bob.

      This worked for about a week. I don't know how, but the geese got out of the shack.

      Bob had gotten home one night and was standing looking out at the lake.

      “Hey, Aud, look what wandered on – oh, no, are they ours?”

      I had already fixed him his martini and I scrambled out to where he stood. He raised an eyebrow and cocked his head at me.

      I gave him a quick kiss and smiled. “They really will make a great addition to the yard,” I purred.

      Suddenly Bob laughed. “What am I ever gonna do with you and your pet mania?”

      “Love me and accept my quirkiness,” I suggested.

      He did and things settled down for the night.

      The next morning I went outside to feed Beatrice and Hannabel. They were nowhere in sight. Had they swam off during the night? I checked the shack and there they were, happily jumping in and out of the water.

      “No,no.” I scolded them. “You belong outside now.”

      I finally got them back on the lawn. I walked toward the lake calling them. “C'mon, babies.”

      They just sat there, honking as though to say “No thanks.”

      They didn't budge. I dragged the container of water to where they were squatting. They immediately took turns hopping in and out. With a whole lake waiting, they were happy where they were. At nightfall I watched them waddle back into the shack.

      Bob just chuckled. “Looks like you've got landlubbers there. Just let them alone.”

      Nope, I decided, geese belong swimming gracefully in the lake.

      They were back in the yard the next morning, gobbling up the food I had put out and, you guessed it, hopping in and out of the container. The lake didn't hold any appeal to them.

      For a frustrating week I tried to train them to follow me down to the lake. Where was the answer? Was it because they had been cooped up too long at the feed store? Or did I just have two stubborn geese on my hands? I finally realized Bob was right. They were more fun to look at closeup anyway.

      Beatrice and Hannabel lived happily doing their own thing, honking their approval when I would approach with their daily feed. Sometimes I felt they had outsmarted me. Still, as long as they were well and content, that's what counted.