No names have really stuck, but so far he's been called Sally, Goose-goose, Beep-beep and my favorite, Pew-Pew.
He's been pretty good with everyone and has only bit Rhiannon once or twice. Not that I really blame him as only seconds before one of the "goosings" I saw Rhiannon with her hands gripping his neck like a baseball bat. So it looks as if we may not have a Christmas Goose for supper. Not sure if I'm happy about that or not.
Pew-Pew has his own kiddie pool to lounge in, but I have to dump out the water every other day or it gets really nasty. It would probably be best if I did it every day, but I'm lazy. I was hoping that giving him his very own swimming pool would keep him from mucking up every other bucket of water, but no such luck.
|I put clean water in that bucket for the dogs not five minutes earlier.|
During evening barn chores, I'll call the goose and he follows me into the goat pen for the night and he's been bedding down in one of the blue barrels we made for goat kid condos. At first I had to play goat-wrangler trying to corral him down the path to the goat area, but eventually convinced him to come with me every evening by promising a handful of grain when he followed me. He'd be a sitting duck, er, goose out in the yard at night and I don't really want to explain to Rhiannon why Pew-Pew's feathers are scattered all over the front yard.
For the past few weeks he's been attempting to fly, but just kind of runs on his tippy-toes, flapping like crazy. Not sure if we'll clip his wings so he stays around here or if I'll just let nature take it's course, wave a fond farewell when / if he manages to take flight and be thankful that I'll no longer have to clean out every single stinking water bucket every single stinking day.