MYSTERY OF THE MISSING GOSLING

..OR, Peewee vanishes without trace

 ONE of our geese is missing - PeeWee, the only surviving gosling from a batch of eggs laid by a Toulouse Goose in 2013, disappeared sometime after 10am and before noon today. There's no clues, no tell-tale feathers, nothing. Naturally everyone is distressed including his parents Jack & Vera and our old Swedish Kohn goose Bluebell who used to guard him in the first few weeks with a passion as though he were her own.
 I doubt he has strayed since he never wandered off and was always kept under close watch by the three adult geese; as the sole survivor of 10 eggs laid by Vera he was in many ways over-protected. Another baffling aspect is that the adult geese don't appear to be as distressed as they were when a badger snatched nesting mother Queenie before scoffing all of her eggs earlier this year.

 * The film above was shot last month and shows how closely the others guarded PeeWee making sure they were always positioned in front of him.

TURKEY TRAGEDY FORCES RE-THINK

.. AS VIXEN STRIKES

  THE clumps of feathers told me all I needed to know.  It's happened again. Another tragedy and more loss of life but this time the villain was not a badger but a fox ... a vixen with hungry cubs to feed - and before all you townies go "aaaah, cute" with a bit of luck she will have carried out her last kill by dawn tomorrow.
 As regulars of Soho2Silo know, I'm still reeling from the badger attack which took out a goose and her entire clutch of eggs last week and while I agonised over what I could do about the turkey who chose to set up a secret nest near the hen pen (http://soho2silo.blogspot.co.uk/2013/04/nature-or-nurture.html) I did nothing. I decided to leave it to Nature and now there are self-recriminations.

TELL TALE SIGNS: The clumps of feathers reveal tragedy

 The unfortunate goose from Sweden was called Queenie but my poor slain turkey didn't even have a name. She was one of the Three Degrees, a trio of Bourbon Reds I bought from a farm in North Yorkshire.
 In the meantime some dear friends bought me an incubator and while I was tempted to take the turkey's eggs hubby pleaded with me to let her continue and so she did until the early hours of this morning. And no, I'm not blaming he-who-should-be-obeyed-but-rarely-is and in truth he is just as upset as me at the loss of more stock because we are fond of them all.
 My bedroom overlooks the scene of the crime but since I have taken to going to bed listening to BBC Radio 4 on an evening to drown out the noise of the clog dancers who inhabit the attic (more about them another time) I heard nothing.
 This morning I called in my own CSI expert and he surveyed the scene for around half an hour and went off down a bankside leading on to a river. When he returned he gave me his assessment.
 The killer was a vixen who, judging from the clumps of feathers around the nest site, had struggled to rip the Bourbon Red turkey from her nest. He says it was a vixen because a dog fox would have eaten his kill just a few yards away but this fox took the bird all the way to her lair where she would have fed her waiting cubs.

SURROGATE MUM:  Bourbon Red turkey
sits on a variety of eggs due to hatch next week

 He followed the trail of feathers through the woodland and down to the riverside, then along to a small hump-backed bridge, over a road and into some more woodland. By all accounts my turkey must have put up one hell of a struggle because of the clumps of feathers at various points en route. Delicate paw marks also revealed the sex of the fox.
 And there's more - the gamekeeper reckons she will be back and, if wanted, he will be lying in wait. I nodded vigorously. Unlike badgers, foxes are not a protected species and, as any farmer will tell you, they are a pest and should be shot on sight. No time for sentiment. I am not going to lose any more of my animals if I can help it.
 As usual, where there is death there is also hope of life. The eggs were left intact and I gathered them all up and shoved them under a turkey which is nesting in the stable. Her own eggs are in the incubator and at the moment she is sitting on a couple of abandoned goose eggs and half a dozen chicken eggs as well as a pot egg.

NEST EGG: The start of another turkey nest

 I don't know if the eggs left behind by her sister  are still in a condition to hatch - only time will tell but whatever happens you will be among the first to know.
 And there's still more - the last of the Three Degrees has started laying eggs in her own secret nest very close to the house. The gamekeeper has advised that as soon as she starts sitting on her batch of eggs I should intervene and move them all into the stable where they will be safely locked up every evening. I am going to take his advice - at the moment I feel it is better to nurture rather than leave it to Nature.
 What do you think?

A HELPING HAND

..Or a hindrance

 What a rollercoaster day it has been and the dramas are continuing well into the night.
 Vera, my beautiful Toulouse goose proudly showed off a newly-hatched gosling early this morning and by noon there was another yellow fluffy ball beginning to emerge from one of the remaining nine eggs. See the short video clip below.
 'Nature not nurture', I thought to myself as I walked away but an hour later one of the goslings was dead and another was lying exhausted only half way out of its shell. Vera was clearly distressed and my presence near her makeshift nest was only making matters worse so I retreated.
 In the meantime I went to check on the turkeys and their own egg-laying saga - one has stayed out eight nights on the run now keeping a lonely vigil on her nest away from prying eyes ... although a previous posting reveals its secrets. The other turkey who is nesting has been sitting on her eggs in a stable for nearly as long, but I must confess I've been nicking her eggs and saving them for the new incubator which arrived a few days ago.

And just to make sure she's not distressed by the theft I replaced each delivery with a fake, pot egg. My other half pointed out that now she is sitting on a clutch of pot eggs it's rather cruel to let the deception continue indefinitely. His observations have really pricked my conscience and so I've now started replacing the pot eggs with those laid by my Scots Dumpys. Yes, yes, I know - it seems I'm using a shovel to dig myself into a deeper hole than the one I've already made.
'O, what a tangled web we weave when we practice to deceive,' wrote Scottish poet Sir Walter Scott. I wonder if he kept birds?
 Anyway I daren't think of the deep psychological damage I'm going to do when the turkey hatches hens' eggs and looks at her tiny offspring for the first time. Nor am I sure how wee chooks will react by a massive, big mum who looks nothing like them.
 And I've no idea what's in store for me tomorrow when I check Vera or if the little chappie in the film above will still be alive.
 It seems if I remain hands off then disaster could strike if the little gosling loses his struggle to get out of his shell but if I meddle with Nature then I could make things worse.
 Once again the thorny dilemma of Nature v Nurture looms large.


                                               

SILO SNIPPET

 Guess who got some Easter eggs - yours truly from the geese Bluebell, Queenie & Vera. I can't believe they've been hiding them from me until now but there are at least eight and there could be more on the way ... no wonder Jack the Gander has been even more hostile to visitors than usual. Pictures coming soon.