"The neighborhood kids have been throwing stones at Frick and Frack," my dad told me with tears in his eyes. "I don't know what to do," he added. Frick and Frack were a mating pair of Canada geese that my dad had living on a pond behind his house. They stuck together like glue because neither one could fly. They were born with bent and twist wing tips; a disease that rehabilitators have nicknamed, "Angel's Wings". We didn't know it at the time but this is a man made genetic condition in waterfowl like geese and ducks due to an increased ingestion of pesticides from fields and golf courses. Parents pass the condition on to their offspring. So when Frick and Frack wondered onto the pond and couldn't leave, my dad quickly bonded to them. Whenever the two geese would see him walk out his backdoor they'd come running because they knew that he had bread for them.
But over time it became increasingly clear to me that Frick and Frack could no longer live on the pond. A snapping turtle about the diameter of a round picnic table had taken up residence in the pond. I spotted him on several occasions eating goose eggs and with Frick and Frack being unable to fly, well it was only a matter of time. The female goose had also developed a large mass under her right wing which left her unable to put her wing down. There are some who would argue, "Leave nature take its course." As hard as it was for him to watch, my dad was one of these people. I felt differently. "Was it nature that caused them to be born with a defect that left them unable to defend themselves in the wild? Was it natural to have stones being hurled at them?" These geese were suffering at the hands of man and it wasn't right. I knew of a wildlife rehabilitator who was willing to take the geese in and retire them on a pond on her property where they would be guaranteed safety.
I spent every evening after work for two weeks at my dad's pond. And every night I came home empty. I couldn't catch the birds by myself and my dad worked out of town. My husband worked until after dark. My boss who was on the board of our local SPCA put me in touch with Melissa, the animal control officer. Melissa met me at the pond one evening. The the two of us worked together to rescue Frick and Frack. When my husband came home that night we drove the geese to the wildlife rehabilitator's sanctuary. For a donation she took the birds and told me that she would call me after the female was examined by a veterinarian who was going to take a look at the mass under her wing.
A few days later I got news. "Well, I don't have good news," the rehabilitator told me. "We put the female on the pond with the other geese and they started attacking her. Sometimes when a stranger goose takes up residence on the pond geese will attack if they sense that the newcomer is ill. So I isolated her until the vet examined her. He had to perform surgery on her to find out if he could remove the mass. When he cut her open he determined that the mass was some type of cancerous growth. It covered her entire breast area and was starting to invade her lung tissue. We decided to let her go on the table. She would have never survived in the wild and even here at our facility she wouldn't have lived too much longer. I'm so sorry," she said.
"What will her mate do without her? Will he be sad?" I asked.
"Well, he can continue to stay here with us. I think that's best for him. With his condition and without a mate, he would never survive on his own. He would become instant prey for a bigger animal. And yes, he will be sad. Geese mate for life you know."
"Will he find another mate now that she's gone?"
"No, I'm afraid not. When a goose's mate dies they very rarely mate with another. It's not likely that he will forget her."
When I hung up, I broke down. I really thought that I did the right thing. But how could the "right thing" feel so bad. I worked so hard to retire Frick and Frack to a place where they could live out their years in safety. But the female goose died and now the male was without a mate. So was it worth it all and did I really do the right thing? Yes, the female goose died. But, she would have died anyway. Granted she probably would have died under less stressful conditions, but she may have suffered in the end. The male goose was without a mate, but he would have eventually been without a mate if I left them on the pond. And he might have died a horrible death as well. Ten years later, I still feel a sense of guilt. One of the main reasons I removed the geese from the pond was that the neighborhood kids were mistreating the geese. But when the female was released into what was supposed to be a safe environment, she was again attacked.
For me, to pacify myself, it comes down to one thing, I guess. Since I was a child, I have loved animals, more than people, some say. I have spent my lifetime defending animals. It's just who I am. And personally I think there should be more people like me. So would I do it again? I think I would. After all it's who God made me to be. So how could that be wrong?