Here’s my White Rock “harvest” story:  When the kids were school-age we raised three Rouen ducks until they outgrew their backyard wading pool. Knowing that they would find many of their own kind there, we released the trio at WR lake, and checked on them daily. 

Within a week we found the littlest one in bad shape. We scooped her up and rushed her to the emergency bird vet, but it was too late. The vet told us that recent rains had flooded the lake with debris and toxins, and advised us to move our former charges elsewhere. 

Arming ourselves with tasty leafy greens, old towels and a dog kennel we headed over to the lake on our rescue mission. The last two ducks were not as friendly as the little one, so hilarity ensued as we wallowed in the muck trying to corral them in. 

Such shenanigans attracted several indignant Lake-Ladies who were rightfully appalled at our apparent animal abuse and public thievery. They softened considerably once we explained ourselves, but then shared a tragic story about the pair of bonded domestic geese every bird-aware lake-goer was familiar with. 

Apparently, during the previous December. some uneducated evil-doer had either captured or dispatched the female to take home to his table, leaving the gander enraged and bereft. The gander’s normally protective behavior had turned aggressive as the poor soul grieved his life-long mate. 

I often wonder what became of that poor lonely goose.