Before Finny burst into my life 18 months ago, the original flock members were Sam, Seb and Sally, white, long-feathered Sebastopol geese, and Sue and Sal, mostly gray Toulouse barnyard geese.

They were a good flock and provided lots of entertainment for my friends and relatives and most especially for me.

One event that I’ll never forget happened several years ago when someone decided they didn’t want their pet ferret anymore, and decided to release it in front of our house. After all, we live in the country and this is where irresponsible pet owners often drop off animals.

I’ve so often wondered whatever happened to that poor little ferret.

First, he wandered into the backyard where an angry and frightened flock of geese seemed to be waiting to pounce.

Weasels are natural enemies of geese, and ferrets are first cousins. It didn’t matter that the ferret was only about a foot long, quite young and obviously, someone’s pet, and that the five geese were all much larger and more aggressive than that little brownish, furry animal.

The flock surrounded the poor thing, honking loudly and flapping their muscular wings with all their might. The ferret was petrified.

When the ferret saw me, he knew he had a friend. He tried, and tried some more, to escape the circle of geese to come into the safety of my arms. The geese were adamant that they were going to stamp out this enemy.

But eventually, I chased the geese away, caught the quivering ferret, and placed him in a cage to await the arrival of the animal control officer.

The first person to arrive was a very young, very nice local police officer.

While we were explaining to him about the ferret we believed was abandoned, and showing him the tiny creature now in a former terrarium, my very curious geese slowly waddled into the front yard.

Suddenly, the police officer saw the geese surrounding him and immediately placed his hand on his holster ready to draw his firearm.

I laughed and told him the geese wouldn’t hurt him as I shooed them away. He didn’t quite believe me, but took his hand away from the holster as I chased the geese farther away.

Eventually, the animal control officer arrived, put the ferret in his vehicle and told us he’d take it to the local animal shelter.

I’ve often wondered about that little ferret. Was he taken to the shelter and did someone decide to adopt him?

A little later, the geese obligingly waddled back to their pens, squawking all the way.

Unfortunately, geese have a bad, mostly undeserved reputation for attacking people. The only time they get just a bit ornery is in mating season and when there are goslings around. Then, they’d attack anyone and anything, regardless of the size, unless, of course, that person is a goose whisperer.

Although, between our mild-mannered, rather wimpy but thoroughly lovable golden retriever who slinks away whenever just one goose wanders into his space, and those majestic white and gray feathered birds, I’d feel much safer using geese as watchdogs.

And my lovely gray and white Finny, I’d put him up against nearly any adversary any time. He’s now 18 months old, totally full of himself, very large and vocal, and a wonderful protective father for his two adopted 6-month-old goslings. We still “speak” to each other, so he knows I’m no threat to Blackberry and Plum Blossom. And the two young ones also understand my goosewhispering.

The coop and pen adventures continue.

 Eileen Adams may be contaced at petsplants@midmaine.com

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