2005apr14. Today I wore shorts in the presence of waterfowl for the first time. The geese took that as a sign that I was offering them a new leg-based hair snack. “NO!” Lots of “no” today. Beak-holding. They also aren’t crying as much today. I “hid” the sweeping panorama side of the pen by laying a door down, shortening the length of the pen a bit. I thought maybe the vast expanse was scaring them, they've been in small spaces since they showed up. No effect. Door leaves tonight.
Most of the grass is dead, and the stuff that they like is down to the last three or four tufts. We don’t have well-manicured lush grassy lawns here in the desert unless you’re some stupid suburban idiot. When I say “grass” I really mean a squat thing that sprouts in tufts. Well, it’s all dead now (though it holds its shape and the seeds have little barbs that get on your socks in great quantities and they prickle you and I could just PUNCH that grass), and the geese don’t like anything that’s currently blooming in this area. Spinach? They’re all berserk-o freaks about it.
So we’re getting sod. Geese are living it up hi-style.
They still don’t like being picked up, and they tolerate petting. It doesn’t make them trill like a good chunk of grass or napping.