Walker is still alive

We saw Walker again this weekend. He's been with us since someone shot at him out of season and nicked a wing. Walker is a Canadian goose, an elegant bird whose flight is sure and true. The sounds they make as they come in for a landing on our pond is as clear a call of the wild as an eagle's in the West. Some think the geese are a nuisance, but we love them as well as the many types of ducks, herons and other water birds such as the kingfishers that visit us during the spring through late fall. 

Walker and his mate arrived early this year. We saw the wing dragging and thought a coyote or fox family would take him soon. But not so. He walked up the hill in front of our house to find food, and crosses the road to the neighbor's pond. We think they leave a shed door open for him to find shelter. The mate is now gone, as our most of the other geese, but we know she will return in the spring to see if Walker makes it through the winter. The ponds froze this week but portions melted yesterday, so he is safe for a bit longer. 

You might ask how we know Walker is a male. Well, we don't, but he is larger than the mate, and that usually means a male. You also might ask why we haven't called animal rescue, or something. And that reminds me of my childhood, raised on a farm in east central Illinois. I learned there to respect Nature's Way. A kitten with a broken leg was nurtured back to health by me after the leg was strapped to popsicle sticks. I loved to lay in a clean stall with a young calf, inundated with the scent of hay and warm animal. Baby chickens were in my hands before I knew to be gentle. As I was older I had horses to train and ride and bantam chickens to admire. Through these experiences my parents taught me to respect life and that Nature should be allowed to take its course with animals. There simply wasn't enough money to take a kitten to the vet, or to fix a goose's wing. 

Money was not the issue, however. My parents believed that humans were given the task of caring for God's creatures, but that humans came first. While I believe we've done a miserable job of that work, I am troubled that so many people will spend thousands of dollars on their animals but not a penny for humans in need.

OK, we now have five cats that we adore. They are fed the best food available and go to the vet as necessary. So should I call about Walker? I don't know. He probably can't be fixed, but the wing is stronger, and I keep hoping that the flapping exercises he performs (without benefit of physical therapy!) will one day carry him away. 

I know, however, that if he doesn't fly away, he remains free. Somehow, I believe that is what God intends. The ice is melting now, and the Almanac predicts a mild winter. 

So we'll keep watching Walker and cheering his courage.