Chapter One, continuedA crew was sent to the dam to capture the flock, but they botched the job and only managed to catch five. The sixth, a female who happened to be a strong flyer (highly unusual for a domestic goose), was so frightened she flew off across the river. Rather than try again to capture the entire flock, the crew took the five and left her there alone.
The manager at the wildlife center ignored my pleas to send the crew back for her. He showed no concern for the fact that without her flock she was more vulnerable than ever to the cold (it was December now), coyotes and starvation. Later, a woman who runs a sanctuary for abused and abandoned animals told me she had heard from a reliable source that many of the waterfowl "rescued" by the wildlife center were, in fact, slaughtered, something that haunts me still.
I fed the lone female more often now even though she still had the company of the Canada Geese. I felt responsible for her unhappy fate. And, though she recognized me, ate the food I brought her and returned my calls of "Hey, Girl!" with enthusiastic honks, she was not the same. Watching her call and search the river way for her flock was heartbreaking.
She truly grieved.
I fed the lone female more often now even though she still had the company of the Canada Geese. I felt responsible for her unhappy fate. And, though she recognized me, ate the food I brought her and returned my calls of "Hey, Girl!" with enthusiastic honks, she was not the same. Watching her call and search the river way for her flock was heartbreaking.
She truly grieved.
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