This was me on Monday night, with Gertrude the Goose. (Photograph, courtesy of Jonathan.)
Tonight, I was talking to Jonathan, and we both realize that it had been a little while since we had checked on Gertrude…so after work, I headed over to her nesting area by the Chicago River.
And lo and behold…she was gone! And so were her eggs. And so was Stanley. All that was left was a pile of feathers and dirt and probably poop and egg fragments (It was hard to tell what was all in that pile—there were too many feathers strewn about).
I looked up and down the river forlornly, wishing that I’d been there to see the babies hatch. (At least I hope they hatched, and someone didn’t just mess with the nest.)
I have a hunch that it all worked out okay…especially when Iwanski confirmed after a quick internet search that goslings are mobile and can swim within a day of being hatched. (How ‘bout that?!)
Still, I feel cheated that I didn’t get to see Pippin and Dumplin’ and Pyrtle, swimming down the river with their proud Mom and Pops.
I expected goslings. I need to see goslings.
Thank God for Google images. (Aren’t they just the cutest?)
This weekend, Iwanski and I are going to take a long stroll on the riverwalk and see if we can see the real thing. There are not too many things cuter than little goslings swimming in a line behind their mama goose.
*Gosling photo credit: www.new-jersey-birds.com.