It’s clearly that time of year when most things outside are feeling frisky. Colonel Sherman T. Potter my Cockerel is at it. The ducks on the lake are at it, but one creature here on the farm who hasn’t been at it is Gary The Gander. I had a Goose and Gander, but she died. At first when she went missing I thought the fox had got her – after all I now only have 5 ducks out of 17, many of whom I found their remains scattered about the field where the lake is. One duck survived an attack, blood stained, living on for two more weeks before she too disappeared never to return. I bought a floating duck house (did think about becoming an MP) but do they use them? Do they heck. Clearly Goosey just died as she didn’t have a mark on her, which left Gary the Gander in despair honking and honking and honking with a broken heart. Or it just could have been sexual frustration. I wanted to get him a couple of girls but this was back in December – a time of year when you can’t tell a Goose from a Gander. So Gary lived on, lonely on the lake through all those long dark winter nights, until yesterday. He is currently residing in a stable with two new girls. From there they will be transferred to their new house in the field and fenced in for a few days so they can get used to being shut in at night. After that, freedom and (hopefully) with the sense to come back to their house for safety at night. That’s the theory, it could work, but knowing my luck they will decide to sleep on the banks of the lake instead, along with the ducks.
Back at the hen house Sherman hasn’t been lonely, but he’s had a difficult time recently. The girls were clearly not interested in him, a couple of them would even attack him if he went too near. So much so that he took to coming out of the hen house first, then dashing round the back to hide. There he would lie in wait for a girl to exit the house. After a while one girl would venture out slowly trying to work out where Sherman had gone to avoid getting shagged. At the right moment he would dash back to the front of the house hoping to grab the girl. This worked for a while until the girls worked out it was just easier to wait inside the house, while he got fed up and went off to sulk.
Meanwhile there are some confused frogs about the place. I have three ponds, two streams and one lake and yet some stupid frogs have laid their frogspawn in a water trough! As the old saying goes ‘none such queer as