jmgoyder

wings and things

Copulating confusion

First it was the dogs, Doc and Blaze, a father-and-son-miniature-dachschund-duo. After we lost Inky (Doc’s wife and Blaze’s mum), Doc kept trying to, you know, ‘do it’ to Blaze. It became such a problem that we had to take Doc to the vet for a hormone implant, after which he left his son alone thank goodness!

Then it was the pigs (half sisters don’t forget!) Vegemite started trying to ‘do it’ to Mathilda. I found this much more disturbing because Vegemite had a rather aggressive sexual drive so when I tried to stop her she would raise her hackles and bare her substantial teeth. It’s not that Mathilda minded particularly; she didn’t even seem to notice what was happening at the back of her, as long as there was wheat in front of her. Anyway, this is another reason both pigs are happier now they are with boars.

It wasn’t until the Indian runner drake did the same kind of thing with his brother (despite the fact that there were two girl ducks available), and the peacocks – the males – started flirting with each other, that I began to realise that the sexual antics of fauna might be a little different to those of humans. I realise this is debatable but my point is that I no longer fret when I see what I now call ‘an incident’.

Oh now naive I used to be! The first time I saw our rooster, Courvoisier, copulate with one of our first hens, I didn’t realise what he was doing. I thought he was attacking her so I screamed out “stop it, stop it, Courvoisier!” But it was all very fast and the hen, Sussex (her breed name), just shook herself and walked off as if nothing had happened, although she did have a rather smug look on her face and that’s when I sort of understood.

And now I totally understand!

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“Those thieving birds”

Silverchair’s song, “Those thieving birds” is one of my favourites and I was tempted to call this blog “Thieving birds” but I thought that might be just as obscure as the weird metaphors in this beautiful song (check it out …. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iCQ-TWipBhc )

For me, the idea of thieving birds, despite its darker implications, means this: These birds have stolen tidbits of my heart then returned them to me like nuggets of gold. Yeah, I know that sounds a bit cliched and twee but hopefully the pictures will do the talking here.

Top left: Pearl, our first Sebastopol gosling

Top right: Tina Turner, the rooster I thought was a hen

Left: King peacock competing with white peacock

Right: Emery, the emu chick at two months of age!

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Godfrey the gander

      

Godfrey is a Chinese gander (that’s a male goose for the uninitiated). When we got him a few months ago, he was two years old and he didn’t have a name so I just called him Godfrey because he looked like a Godfrey. He was quiet, semi-tame and rather majestic. Soon after, we began to accumulate a few goslings and Godfrey has now changed from a gander who ate from my hand to a biting, hissing Godzilla – but only when I approach his goslings. Yes, he seems to think they are his own offspring and his protectiveness of them is incredible.

It was rather beautiful with the first gosling as Godfrey bent over and nudged Pearl and made this soft, keening noise from deep inside his rather long throat. I thought, how sweet, so brought our new duckling, Zaruma, out to meet him but, even though at two weeks of age, Pearl and Zaruma were almost identical, Godfrey spat it (literally) with Zaruma, then king-hit him with one of his massive wings whilst caressing Pearl with his other wing.

Yeah, you definitely need to be a goose if you want Godfrey’s affection!

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